


Say you’ll remember me

by zation



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Anal Sex, Angst, Desperation, Drinking, First Time, Golden Age of Piracy, Hardships, Hesitant Dean, Hurting Castiel, Kissing, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mildly Dubious Consent, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Pirate Castiel, Prompt Fic, Religion, Sadness, Sex for Favors, Slave Trade, attempts at suicide, longer than I had intended, more angsty too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 07:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5039503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zation/pseuds/zation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Original prompt: <em>basically a destiel pirate au where Dean is trying to rescue his brother, who had been kidnapped by a crew member. Castiel could either be the captain or a crew member</em></p><p>Or,</p><p>The one where Dean finds it increasingly difficult to keep business from pleasure and where emotions such as confusion, despair, and desire seem interchangeable.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>EDIT: split into chapters beacuse seriously, what was I thinking...? Text remains the same.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. This is the baby my brain and a fic request I got made :D
> 
> 2\. Please read the tags carefully, for the trigger warnings if nothing else.
> 
> 3\. When I think pirates, I think 17th-century Caribbean. Problem is, I don’t know any pirate lingo, nor nothing about ships or anything else from that era. All my "knowledge" of piracy from that time comes from _Pirates of the Caribbean_ and Goggle. This will _not_ be historically accurate. Sorry.
> 
> 4\. I have to be honest, when I first read the prompt and saw the word "pirate" I was like "hells yeah! Pirate porn!" and then when I read what I’d written I was like "yo, what’s up with all the angst?" because apparently I can’t write anything without puking feelings all over it…  
> Incredibly sorry about that. I hope it hits at least some of the marks and that my beloved requester is somewhat satisfied! 
> 
> 5\. I was at first thinking roughly 6000-8000 words of pirate-y smut but then THE FEELS, so…
> 
> 6\. Title is lyrics from Taylor Swift’s _Wildest Dreams_.
> 
> 7\. Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> Now, avast maties! Arrr! (See? Just goddamn awful…)

  
  


Castiel was befuddled, it didn’t happen a lot and he didn’t like it.

He was at his regular spot to the right of the rudder at the upper deck of _The Hellgate_ , listening to First Mate Guthrie whistling while Castiel himself stood silent vigil over the crew. _The Hellgate_ split the waves as beautifully as usual and Captain Crowley was still in his cabin, leaving the overseeing of the ship to Castiel, as per usual. A job more suited for the First Mate indeed and officially it of course was so but they all knew Castiel had his own role to play.

Castiel had been with _The Hellgate_ for just over four years now and he had been careful to maneuver himself into a valuable and irreplaceable position. First Mates came and went, especially with Captain Crowley, but Castiel was the Captain’s bookkeeper. The one who counted the loot, the one who drew the maps, the one who hired new crew members. The one who did all the shitty counting and recounting that the Captain couldn’t be bothered with and Castiel was happy with that spot because he was good at it. Had been from the get-go and had always thought he would be.

But now…

Now he had managed to make himself confused because hiring new crew members was easily the easiest job he had. Sit there at the table and approve or dismiss desperate and not so desperate men, easy. Once in a while he had made a bad decision but it didn’t matter much because men came and went. Oh, _The Hellgate_ had her fair share of permanent crew members, make no mistake. There were men so ingrained in the ship’s history they were practically a part of her. But other men got lost at sea; didn’t share their loot properly; just wanted a transport between one port and another. Everyone had their reason for sailing the seas and many didn’t care what kind of transport they ended up on. And, honestly, as far as pirate ships went, _The Hellgate_ was probably the most honest of the dishonest, mainly thanks to Castiel, he used to pride himself with until he remembered that pride was a sin. And then remembered that he didn’t wear the cloth anymore so he could sin all he wanted. And then he remembered the corruption that sin brought. It was an endless loop.

Anyway, the problem at hand had joined them in Matanzas back on Cuba and the man was what had Castiel squinting more than usual, even considering the bright sunlight.

Because Mr. Winchester was _clearly_ not a sailor and neither did he wish to be one. He didn’t have sea legs and had failed to acquire a pair even after this first week at sea. He was tall and broad-shouldered and sure, that was a good feature for anyone hoping to manage the many ropes and dirty work. And it sure came in handy when they had to hoist the sails. Except those weren’t muscles acquired from sailing the seas. No, Mr. Winchester was clearly a laboring man but what kind? Castiel guessed carpenter or smith or _maybe_ stable boy, but not a sailor.

And Mr. Winchester didn’t like it here, Castiel could tell with just a passing glance. Of course, the sea was never the fairy tale people made it out to be and Castiel had encountered many men over the years who had regretted their decision bitterly but that wasn’t the case here. Mr. Winchester didn’t like it here simply because he didn’t feel like he belonged here. It was clear as day to Castiel as he watched with sharp eyes how Mr. Winchester interacted with both the crew and the ship.

He seemed eager enough to learn and yet Castiel saw that there was something else on his mind. Of course, this was true of most of the men here. Most, if not all of them were running from something, be it poverty, a broken heart, or justice. Yes, the list was endless and of course someone running from something or someone would sometimes end up a bit preoccupied. Except Mr. Winchester wasn’t running _from_ something, he was running _toward_ something. Or someone.

And yet, despite all of this, Mr. Winchester had seemed almost ridiculously eager to join their crew. Castiel still remembered that night even though he had been rather drunk by the time Mr. Winchester had stalked up to his little table.

He had been sitting in his regular corner in the tacky Blazing Starfish tavern in Matanzas, Alastair to his right and Azazel to his left, both prepared and, sadly, more than willing to beat the living shit out of anyone who dared speak against whatever decision Castiel came to. Because just because Captain Crowley thought the crew looked kind of thinned out and wanted more men it didn’t mean that anyone would do. Castiel knew this better than anyone and he was excellent at making snap decisions.

So, comforted by the pleasant amount of rum he had been downing during the evening and by Alastair’s and Azazel’s ominous presence he had met Mr. Winchester’s scowl with a wobbly smile.

"Is this where I sign up?" he had asked brusquely and Castiel had been rendered momentarily speechless because Mr. Winchester’s eyes were the greenest eyes Castiel had ever seen and they sparkled in the waving candlelight. Mr. Winchester’s scowl had deepened when Castiel had just stared at him and that had had Castiel snapping out of his stunned silence.

"It is." He had answered and pushed the paper where he made men jot down their signature. There were mostly X:s, but still. "Your name, if you please." He had held up an astonishingly nice reservoir pen that Captain Crowley had looted for him the year before.

Mr. Winchester had blinked slowly and it had made him look adorably cross-eyed. "That easy?" he had asked and Castiel had raised his eyebrows at him.

"You do know what you’re signing on for?"

"I do."

Castiel had thought he probably didn’t. "Then, in answer to your question, yes, it is that easy to become a pirate. I think the hard part usually comes before this part. Making the decision and all that."

Mr. Winchester had actually sneered at him then and Castiel had tilted his head to the side in confusion.

"The decision was made for me." Mr. Winchester had snarled and Castiel had nodded.

"Ah. Well, we have a lot of that among the crew. No matter, the pirate community is a very accepting community. Are you," he had hesitated to hand over his pen, sensing even in his drunkenness that something was amiss with this man with the astonishingly green eyes. Something other than him throwing his life away for a life at the sea. Because let’s get one thing straight, Castiel had chosen this life but that didn’t mean he advocated it. "Are you completely sure, though?" he had asked eventually and watched with fascination how Mr. Winchester had squared his jaw.

"This is the sign up for _The Hellgate_ , isn’t it?"

"Yes."

"Then I’m sure." Mr. Winchester had stated firmly and gripped the pen to bend down and write his name in loopy letters.

And that was perhaps what befuddled Castiel the most now when he was sober enough to remember to pay notice of it. Mr. Winchester had _written his own name_. Aside from Castiel, Captain Crowley, and Benton the ship’s doctor, _no one_ in the crew knew how to write. Some could read, more could count, but no one knew how to write. And Mr. Winchester had done it without hesitation.

So, what Castiel had come to conclude was that Mr. Winchester had a body built for labor but different than what a ship offered. He took too long to get accustomed to the sea, leaving only the option that he had either never been on the open waters or perhaps that it had been a very long time ago. He had signed up to be a part of this crew specifically. He wasn’t running from something. He was educated. He didn’t fit in.

All of this befuddled Castiel and made him grouchy because he couldn’t determine if he had made a mistake of hiring Mr. Winchester or not. The man sure worked hard, that had to count for something, right?

But what was worse was a fact that Castiel didn’t like to acknowledge. Namely the fact that he had hired Mr. Winchester despite all of his oddities and Castiel couldn’t blame the rum on that decision even though he had tried to do so for a whole week.

No, he knew now as he stood leaning against the railing and watching the men — Mr. Winchester — working on the deck below him, that he had mostly hired Mr. Winchester because there had been no glaringly obvious reason not to and because Mr. Winchester was, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the most beautiful man Castiel had ever seen.

Castiel had spent the last seven years running from the shame he had brought upon himself and his parish. He had repented and prayed for forgiveness and yes, he had stooped so low as to join a pirate crew, if only make penance and he had honestly thought it was working and yet here stood Mr. Winchester, the very embodiment of sin, tempting Castiel yet again.

And Castiel had been the one to hire him.

Yes, the riddle raised by Mr. Winchester’s presence on _The Hellgate_ was indeed a riddle that befuddled Castiel. And the more he thought about it, the more flustered did he get.

The short voyage until next port suddenly seemed endlessly long.

  
  


*****

  
  


Dean was seriously starting to regret his decision. He thought that if Uncle Bobby had included how goddamn _awful_ everything on a ship was in his argument against Dean’s plan to join _The Hellgate_ ’s crew, then maybe Dean would have reconsidered, if only slightly.

Seriously, even taking a dump was disgusting and Dean was getting incredibly tired of getting laughed at every time he stumbled when the ship jerked. Most unnerving was of course Mr. Novak, the Captain’s right hand man, because the man _wouldn’t stop staring_. He had the bluest and sharpest eyes Dean had ever seen and they seemed to follow Dean’s every movement.

During the first days, Dean had caught him overlooking the crew and had asked one of the men, Alastair, about it. Alastair had explained that Mr. Novak was Captain Crowley’s eyes and ears and damn you, land lubber, if you get on Mr. Novak’s bad side. Dean had just nodded at that and thought it should be no problem because he wasn’t out to cause problems, not really. And Mr. Novak oversaw all activity on the ship, both on and below deck, that he was interested in the new recruits he had hired was nothing unusual, even Alastair said so.

Only, it was now a week later and only Dean was still scrutinized. It was yet another thing the fucking pirates mocked him for. He was thankful, though, that that was all they gave him a hard time about. He had heard on a number of occasions how other crew members were treated. Especially the new ones, and the ones that probably wouldn’t have lasted very long anyhow. The long sea voyages were cold and lonely after all and Dean shuddered to think of what went on when Mr. Novak’s piercing eyes were turned away.

Actually, Dean was suspecting that the only reason he got to sleep undisturbed at night was either his give-them-hell attitude or his muscles because either the pirates thought he fitted right in or they were afraid of what he would do to them. He didn’t know which and he didn’t care to find out, was just glad it was working.

Dean had his mind set on his goal and to do it he needed not to draw attention to himself. Something he had thought wouldn’t be too difficult, even if he hadn’t set foot on a ship since he was eight and old man Winchester had sailed them to Havana in the first place, a fact Uncle Bobby had adamantly used against Dean when Dean had first told him his plan. Okay, so Dean knew nothing of the sea, big deal. He was scrappy, he could easily master this enough to pass for someone who was running away from say, the law. Uncle Bobby had too little faith, that was all.

Of course, with Sam missing little over a month now, Dean’s faith was slowly dwindling as well.

Sammy was Dean’s little brother and the backbone of Dean’s family because without him it would be only Dean and Uncle Bobby left and an old drunk and a man that was still trying to impress his old man long after said man had died was not much to brag about. Besides, they needed Sammy at the forge because no one could fold the steel quite like him.

But Sam had decided to check out the source of their raw material himself when the last shipment had looked more like a scam than anything else. Both Dean and Uncle Bobby had been against it, let that record be shown. Sam was nothing if not stubborn, though, and had just scoffed at the older men’s worries about pirates. Well, it had been barely a week of what had been supposed to be a month-long voyage before reports about Sam’s ship being boarded and pillaged came back to Havana. Honestly, Dean wanted to find his little brother to hug him as much as he wanted to tell him he fucking told him so.

Uncle Bobby had just kind of sunken in on himself when he heard the news but Dean had gotten mad. And determined. Sam was not dead and that was that. Because Sammy was a Winchester and the Winchesters rolled with the punches.

It had taken Dean a long while but he had finally managed to get information enough that he thought he could safely say that _The Hellgate_ had been the ship to intercept the one Sam had been on. And, the source had told Dean in a hushed voice, _The Hellgate_ didn’t kill passengers. They let the old and the young go and they napped the able-bodied to sell them at slave markets. Dean had thought that sounded strange but the old hag had proceeded to inform him — after he had bought her a new round of whisky — that _The Hellgate_ had started doing so about three or four years ago, probably in tandem with the slave trade rising in the ports along the Cuban coastline. Dean still didn’t completely believe her but she claimed to have been a survivor from an attack two years prior and she swore that that was how it was done.

It had been enough for Dean to get his hopes up, though, and to start searching for _The Hellgate_ , which had lead him to Matanzas as soon as he got wind of the ship heading that way. Uncle Bobby had thought it was a terrible idea but Dean had seen the spark of hope in the old man’s eyes and here Dean was now, on the very ship that supposedly had kidnapped his brother because fuck if Sam wasn’t "able-bodied" enough to be sold as a slave. Problem was, that had been a couple of weeks back and Dean had searched the ship top to bottom now and there was no trace of Sam or any other slave. The brig even looked dusty with disuse, on a goddamn ship.

So Dean had had to rethink his approach. He was sure the old cook had given him correct information because he had double checked it with other sources, some more reliable than others, before even stepping his foot in the tavern where Mr. Novak conveniently sat and hired new crew members. He had been so sure he would find Sam if he just got on the ship but of course he was too late. Sam was probably already sold and from what Dean had been able to gauge from the tentative conversations he had shared with the rest of the crew, the most probable port for slave trade was Nassau, New Providence Island.

Dean had started thinking he should hop ship as soon as they came to port, any port, but he wasn’t so sure that would be for the best. For one, he didn’t have very much money on him and even though getting recruited for a pirate ship was free, travelling legally was not. And secondly, Nassau was big and he wouldn’t know where to start looking. Fortunately, Dean now, only a scarce week after getting on this godforsaken ship, thought he knew where to start looking for the information about Sam’s potential buyer. Because who would know more about the slave trade conducted by this ship if not the Captain’s bookkeeper?

Yeah, Dean had been fucking surprised when he got that information out of the very intoxicated ship doctor, Benton. Dean had seriously thought Mr. Novak was the First Mate but apparently he was somewhere in-between the First Mate and the Captain. Yes, doc Benton had slurred in the dead of night, Mr. Novak had chiseled himself out a cozy little nook right there under the Captain’s arm and how the fuck was that even possible?

Doc Benton had just shrugged jerkily and muttered "fucking pirates" under his breath as if that would explain anything.

Dean didn’t really care, though, because the information was enough for him. Mr. Novak officially knew even more than the First Mate on this ship and unlike the Captain, Mr. Novak was attainable. He was out there with them every day. Walking, watching, and clearly making mental notes of everything going on. Dean was inclined to call him a snitch because he suspected that the man reported back to the Captain but he didn’t dare say it out loud because the rest of the crew seemed, if not intimidated, then at least respectful of the man. Yes, Mr. Novak clearly had a reputation that earned the trust of even the most hardened crew member.

Honestly, if Dean hadn’t seen Captain Crowley on the very first day they set sail he would have thought Mr. Novak was actually Captain, what with all his scrutinizing of the crew. But, to be honest, for all the observing Mr. Novak did, he never once issued an order. No, he was all about the knowledge, not about the execution, and that was why Dean _had_ to talk to the man. If _anyone_ , besides the Captain, knew where they had taken Sam, it had to be Mr. Novak.

Only, Dean was pretty certain Mr. Novak was on to him and it made him sweating even more than the warm Caribbean sun did. Because what the hell was up with all the staring? Dean could practically feel the man’s too-blue eyes bore holes in Dean’s skull at all times and it was unsettling to say the least. When he was new it was one thing because Mr. Novak observed all the new-comers but now, a week later, only Dean was still receiving the stink eye. _Clearly_ , the man knew something was up.

Yeah, Dean had to get a fucking move on if he wanted to get any information before Mr. Novak decided Dean was a traitor or something fucked up like that. Because that had to be the reason he was still staring so much, right? He was on to Dean not really wanting to be a pirate, wasn’t he?

Just as Dean turned around, preoccupied with his thoughts and the task of swiping the deck with tar, he caught Mr. Novak’s stare once again.

Mr. Novak was standing up by the rudder, hands clasped behind his back in what was probably the least relaxed stance ever, and he was practically ogling Dean. Dean couldn’t fucking help it, alright? He saluted the fucker, just for the heck of it and then had to do a double take when he thought he saw an emotion flitter across Mr. Novak’s normally so stoic features. Fuck, did he look… flustered?

Dean squinted up at him because the sun was bright and Mr. Novak was a little ways away but before he could decide on what he had seen Mr. Novak turned to descend the stairs.

"Stop staring, idiot." Azazel snarled and jabbed Dean in the back with his elbow as he walked by. "You’re gonna get Mr. Novak after you."

Dean was inclined to snark back that he already had but just as Mr. Novak landed on deck he took a sharp turn and disappeared through the door leading into the Captain’s quarters where Dean knew the man had his very own cabin, which was just another oddity. Aside from the Captain and doc Benton, who slept in sick bay, no one else of the crew had their own room. Except for Mr. Novak.

Dean shook his head and started mopping the deck with tar again. He needed to ask Mr. Novak about the slave trade and he needed to do it delicately and quickly, he just didn’t know when. He was starting to realize he perhaps had put himself in a headlock but he was too stubborn to admit that maybe Uncle Bobby had been right. Especially not when he was on a mission to tell Sam "I told you so" because one "I told you so" at a time, thank you very much.

  
  



	2. First encounter

  
  


It just so happened that an opportunity presented itself to Dean not two days later. He was just finishing his night shift and had grabbed his allotted ration from the kitchens when Cain, the ship’s cook, stopped Dean on his way out.

"Take this to Mr. Novak." Cain said curtly and shoved a bottle of rum at Dean’s chest.

Dean accepted the bottle and looked down at it. All of the men on _The Hellgate_ drank, but none more so than Mr. Novak, Dean had come to know. The man was a lonely drunk, though, and he was seldom if ever seen stumbling about on deck but the men had told Dean tales of Mr. Novak’s drinking habits and Dean kind of wanted to ask if it was wise to indulge the man.

Then again, what the hell did he have to do with it? And, more importantly, this presented him with an opportune moment.

"Sure, chief." He said and stuffed his mouth full of the last piece of bread he had been eating and headed out, bottle clutched in his hand.

To get to Mr. Novak’s room he had to enter through the door that lead to Captain Crowley’s quarters. He knew, though, that behind that door was a small hallway with three doors, one leading to the map room, one to Captain Crowley’s no doubt fancy rooms, and one to Mr. Novak’s cabin. Dean knew this because Guthrie had had Dean and Brady fix the door to the map room when the man had gotten tired of it getting stuck. Boy, Mr. Novak had been surprised to see Dean outside his cabin.

Now that Dean thought about it, that had probably been the most emotion he had seen on Mr. Novak’s face since that night Dean signed on back in Matanzas. Mr. Novak had been drunk that time, Dean remembered now as he gingerly opened the outer door to reveal the barely lit hallway, and Mr. Novak would be drunk tonight as well. If there was any time Dean would get to talk to the man and maybe get his help, it would be tonight.

He walked up to Mr. Novak’s door and was just about to rap on it when he thought he heard a noise from Captain Crowley’s quarters. Now, Dean did have a good reason to be here and he had Cain as his witness about that but then again, pirates, so forgive Dean if he hesitated for the slightest moment.

There was no other sound, though, and no opening of doors and yelling so Dean relaxed and was just about to get back to knocking when the ship jerked and Dean stumbled a little, effectively planting his hand against the door to keep from falling on it.

That was something that he had come to expect, though, even if he couldn’t stop himself from tripping. The ship jerked around a lot and Dean was a land lubber, simple as that.

What he didn’t expect was for Mr. Novak’s door to slide open slightly and much more silently than Dean would have given it credit for. He was just about to panic and shut the door again before knocking properly when he saw what was going on inside the cabin.

Mr. Novak was sitting at a chair in front of a small desk beside a narrow bed, his back to Dean but his head clearly flung back. Not far enough that Dean could see his face but far enough that Dean knew Mr. Novak was relaxed in his posture.

What caught Dean’s eyes the most, though, was the fact that Mr. Novak’s legs were spread. He was clutching a frazzled bible in one hand while the other was moving up and down in his lap in that obvious motion that all men recognized.

Quite frankly, Mr. Novak was jerking off and Dean fucking froze at the sight.

The door was barely open and there was no mirror in which Dean could be spotted from where he stood at the threshold but he knew he was in serious goddamn trouble anyway because holy fuck, _Mr. Novak was jerking off_.

Stoic, unreadable, calm Mr. Novak was actually doing… _this_. Dean just couldn’t wrap his mind around it. And what the fuck was up with the bible? The way Mr. Novak was gripping it made Dean think something was actually wrong here. He didn’t even know Mr. Novak was religious. Sure, Azazel had told him Mr. Novak was the one that read the last rights to the men they lost and he was the one that held mass for those who wanted — _if_ someone wanted — on Sundays, but Dean had always thought that that was because Mr. Novak was one amongst the very few who could read. That didn’t explain this, though.

Dean felt rooted to the spot and wanted to leave so very badly but there was something stopping him and it didn’t get fucking better when Mr. Novak spread his legs even further and fucking moaned. He lolled his head back even more as he slid down the chair and Dean saw his hips stuttering. Fuck, was he gonna come? Dean’s mouth felt dry for some reason.

"Please." Mr. Novak whispered brokenly and Dean’s hand on the door curled into a fist at the pleading sound.

The hand that held the bible trembled as Mr. Novak gripped the book tighter and his other hand sped up. "Oh Lord, please forgive me." He mumbled in a hushed voice and Dean didn’t think he had ever heard someone’s voice go so low.

Mr. Novak moaned again, deeper and more wanton. The rumble of his voice shot straight down Dean’s spine and he nearly fucking gasped at the sharp feeling of arousal because what the fuck?

"Oh God." Mr. Novak groaned and Dean could do nothing but stare as the man’s hips started thrusting abortively. "Please, please forgive me. I-I can’t…" he gasped sharply and this was fucking it, Dean knew. "Dean." Mr. Novak moaned and Dean panicked for a second, thinking he had been caught but then he realized that Mr. Novak was just saying his name while jerking off _and what the actual fuck?!_

" Oh please, please Dean, I—"

Dean’s whole body jerked as if punched when he watched Mr. Novak ejaculate forcefully. Fucking hell, it looked like the man hadn’t had a goddamn orgasm for a decade and yeah, his wanton groan coupled with the fact that Dean hadn’t had a chance to spank the monkey in over two weeks really fucking added up to Dean ending up with one hell of a hard-on.

But just as Mr. Novak slumped back against the chair Dean remembered what the fuck was actually going one here.

1\. He was watching a _man_ jerk off.  
2\. Said man _didn’t know_ he was being watched.  
3\. That man was a _pirate_ and, coincidentally, one of the most powerful pirates on this ship.  
4\. Mr. Novak had called _Dean’s_ name as he came.  
5\. Dean was hard. As a goddamn _rock_.

Yeah, Dean was not facing this shit storm. He promptly shut the door as quietly as he could, which to be honest wasn’t very quiet at all but then again, the ship creaked enough as it was. He leaned against the wall beside the door and breathed deeply, looking around himself to ensure that he was still very much alone in the hallway.

What the goddamn frickity fuck?!

He glared down at his dick and it seemed to thankfully enough get the memo and simmer down. Shit, Dean needed time to process what had actually happened here but he knew this was still his chance to do what he had come here for. He was still clutching the bottle of rum and if he thought bringing a drunk some booze would get the man to soften up to him, just think what said drunk would say if Dean brought him booze after he had just had an earth-shattering orgasm. Yeah, Dean knew he had probably struck gold here but still, Mr. Novak had been calling out Dean’s name and that… that made Dean a little uncomfortable, to be frank.

Sure, he knew what the men did down in the cargo hold but he wanted no part of that because, really, Dean got blue balls just like everyone else but that was just sick.

This, on the other hand…

Hearing Brady scream as the men ripped his ass was one thing but watching the stoic Mr. Novak like this had been something else and that really unsettled Dean. Because he had _liked_ it, hadn’t he? Had liked hearing Mr. Novak sound so pleading and had liked how his name sounded rolled off of that sharp tongue. Obviously, because his dick had perked up real fast but that didn’t mean he had to like liking it. And he didn’t, so there.

He looked down at the rum bottle. He still had to get information about Sam, though. No matter how uncomfortable he would be facing Mr. Novak now.

So he steeled himself and turned around, checking briefly to see that his dick had indeed calmed the fuck down, and knocked on the door.

There was a muffled sound and Dean hoped very much that he had given the other man enough time to clean up or whatever.

Mr. Novak looked as surprised to find Dean outside his door as he had the first time and Dean noted curiously that Mr. Novak didn’t school his features this time like he had last.

"Mr. Winchester." He said and Dean’s mind betrayed him by immediately remembering what that voice had sounded like in the throes of passion. It felt intimate, the way Mr. Novak had spoken Dean’s first name. Maybe it was because he always addressed Dean by his last name but on the other hand, Mr. Novak did that with anyone on the ship who had stated their last name.

"Good evening, Mr. Novak." Dean answered in what he hoped was an unaffected tone, or at least one that relayed their usual attitude towards each other. That is to say, the none-existing attitude since this was actually the first time they had talked privately since Dean joined _The Hellgate_.

" What are you…?" Mr. Novak actually bent out to look up and down the hallway and hugged his chest. Fuck, he looked small and tired and not at all like the man who stood at the rudder and glared down at them. "What can I help you with, Mr. Winchester?"

Dean squinted in thought and considered Mr. Novak’s whole posture. The man looked worn down and… sad? Fuck, Dean didn’t know much about post-orgasmic men but he sure as hell knew himself well enough to say he had never been sad after a jerk off. What the hell was wrong here?

"Cain sent me." He said instead of what he wanted to say. Like, _where is my little brother you filthy pirate?_ Or, _why did you call my name? Because that was about me and not someone else called Dean, wasn’t it?_ Or, _are you okay?_

Mr. Novak scowled at him but before he could rebuff that statement Dean just lifted the rum bottle to present it to Mr. Novak.

"Compliments of the cook." He grinned but Mr. Novak didn’t smile back. He just looked at the bottle with these dead eyes that made Dean’s stomach clench.

"Oh." He said and it took several moments for him to accept the bottle.

Dean knew that this was the moment. Now he had his angle. Now he could ask Mr. Novak to maybe have a drink with him, could shut the door behind him and could have a heart to heart with the man because in this moment Mr. Novak looked more attainable than ever. In this moment Dean really thought Mr. Novak could be the kind of man that would help Dean.

Dean opened his mouth to do just that but before he managed a sound Mr. Novak raised his eyes and stared directly into Dean’s. Fuck, they were just so blue and… and _wondrous_ that Dean’s brain completely blanked out.

" Thank you, Dean." Mr. Novak said in a low tone and Dean shut his mouth only to swallow too audibly.

"Sure thing, Mr. Novak." He answered and saw the defeat in Mr. Novak’s eyes before he realized what a golden opportunity he had just thrown away.

"Good night, Mr. Winchester." Mr. Novak said and turned to close the door.

Dean could do nothing but stare and Mr. Novak shut the door without even looking back. Dean would lie awake a long time that night, thinking about that moment and what he had done wrong, what could have happened, and how he could use his new-found knowledge to his advantage.

He thought a lot about Mr. Novak’s eyes as well, but was less willing to admit that.

  
  


*****

  
  


Dean spent a long time thinking about how to use his angle and quite frankly he was getting a little irritated with himself. Sure, they were still out on the open seas and even if he got to know Sam’s exact location at this moment he wouldn’t have been able to do something about it _right now_. But still, he felt as if he was wasting time and his irritation didn’t get any better when he felt himself blushing every time he felt Mr. Novak’s glare on him. Made his skin prickly, to be honest, and for a completely different reason now than just a couple of days ago.

Because let’s be real here, Dean had thought the pirate was observing him because he was suspecting Dean of mutiny or something else worth keelhauling him for. Now, after that late-night encounter, he was quite certain that Mr. Novak was staring at him because he was fancying Dean. In a sexual way. And oh boy, Dean didn’t know what to make of that information. Except that he should exploit it but he had no fucking clue about where to start.

His contemplating was disrupted by a rather unfortunate merchant ship accidentally crossing _The Hellgate_ ’s path. The whole crew was jostled into joining the sacking of the poor ship and Dean was more than uncertain of how to proceed. He certainly wasn’t going to kill anyone but he didn’t want the pirates to kill him either.

Fortunately, Dean didn’t have to make any decision. It seemed the pirates knew more than to just kill everyone that got in their way and _The Hellgate_ ended up just beating the merchant ship’s crew into submission before promptly and simply stealing their cargo.

Dean found this more than a little confusing but he was glad all the same. Mr. Novak and Guthrie were the only ones of the crew that didn’t step foot on the merchant ship, except for Captain Crowley, who only emerged from his cabin after the loot had been collected.

As the Captain, together with Guthrie, went over their bounty, Mr. Novak was called over to the merchants and sailors of the other ship.

Dean was standing guard over them together with Alastair and Brady when Azazel brought Mr. Novak over.

"Nassau?" Azazel asked and gestured to the ones that he had handpicked and separated from the others. Dean hadn’t known why but now realized with increasing dread that the pirate meant to sell them, like they had done to Sam. Sam had been sitting there, just like these men.

Dean’s throat closed up as Mr. Novak looked the men over. He opened his mouth but shut it again when his eyes happened to meet Dean’s. Dean didn’t know what he looked like, staring at the pirate, but he was trying to plead for their freedom just as much as he tried keeping a neutral expression on his face.

Mr. Novak pressed his lips together in a firm line and shook his head once.

"Not this time." He stated and turned around with a curt wave of his hand. "Let them go."

"But—" Azazel started, looking all kinds bewildered, but was cut off when Mr. Novak turned his steely eyes on him.

"I do not repeat myself." Was all he said and Dean knew from the pale look on Azazel’s face that that held some kind of meaning for the other pirate. Azazel nodded curtly but Mr. Novak had already turned around and was making his way back to Captain Crowley.

They split the unexpected loot later that evening and Dean felt kind of sick accepting the spices and gold but he smiled all the same, bragging and comparing just like the rest of the crew, all the while trying to ignore how Mr. Novak’s eyes burned a hole at the back of his head.

He didn’t know what to do with his share and even though he wished he could give it back to that merchant ship he knew it was impossible. He hadn’t gotten any names, neither from the crew or the ship. And the pirates of _The Hellgate_ had taken special care to slice up the merchant ship’s sails before they sailed off. Mr. Novak had watched with a closed off expression but hadn’t interrupted. Neither had he said anything as the crew shouted jauntily at the poor merchant ship and Captain Crowley chuckled before retreating into his cabin. He had beckoned Mr. Novak to follow him and Dean found himself hoping that the man wouldn’t have to pay for indulging Dean’s soft side.

Because he was sure that that had been what had happened. Mr. Novak had been completely prepared to kidnap even more people and sell them as slaves, easy as pie. But one look at Dean’s pleading face had stopped him and Dean had to wonder if and how much the man would suffer for that. He wished he could thank Mr. Novak but then remembered that he was the same man that had made the decision to take Sam. That somehow made this all worse.

Dean eventually hid his share of the loot far down in the cargo hold, past even the point where they raped Brady at night. He wanted to keep it until he could make something good of it and definitely wanted it far away from greedy pirate hands.

  
  



	3. Opportune moments

  
  


Turned out that stashing his bounty far away had been a particularly good idea because the next stop, which apparently had been the destination all along, was Morgan’s Bluff, a pirate watering hole up north on Andros Island.

Dean had never been there but he had heard enough and, honestly, the tales didn’t give the place enough credit. It was actually even more decrepit than Dean had heard.

The whole port was filled with sleazy brothels, run down taverns and merchant’s that Dean wouldn’t be sad to see robbed. Quite frankly, Dean was disgusted, and it didn’t just have to do with the rank smell that penetrated the port’s every square inch.

Now, Dean was no prude but seriously, the whores here were repulsive and the rum was watered out even though they charged trice as much as back home in Havana.

The crew seemed to like it, though, and even though they took turns on who had to stay back on the ship and guard it and who got to "enjoy" the port’s delicacies Dean just wished he could have stayed back at _The Hellgate_ the entire time. Didn’t want to raise suspicions, though, so he just grinned triumphantly together with Alastair when he got picked to leave.

They were only going to stay at Morgan’s Bluff for about three days and even though Dean didn’t know where they were headed next he wished they were already going. And fuck, he was really mad at himself right now for not confronting Mr. Novak before they came into port. What if he could have gotten on another ship here and sailed off to Sam without having to wait around here? What if Sam was here? Fuck, Dean was mad enough to grit his teeth into little stubs and it didn’t help with the way the crew kept drinking and laughing and rolling off with whores to have their merry way with them.

That these fucking men who had kidnapped his little brother were enjoying themselves was grating on Dean’s nerves and the fact that he apparently was a "pretty" man, according to whore-standards, was even more infuriating. No, he didn’t want to fucking sleep with these women and no, he didn’t want to drink anymore rum that wouldn’t even make him drunk. He would probably get drunker if he drank the sea water, he noted grumpily as he sat in the corner of the tavern/brothel the crew had chosen.

A sudden movement caught his eyes and they nearly budged out when he realized that what he had been absentmindedly watching was Mr. Novak, walking upstairs. Now, Dean had only been in Morgan’s Bluff for about two days but he had quickly learnt two things. One, you didn’t eat the food at _The Grisly Seaweed_ and two, you only went upstairs in a brothel if you were either a whore or a person buying a whore’s company.

And Mr. Novak was, to Dean’s recollection, not a whore.

 _Fucking hell_ , Dean thought and rose before he could change his mind because he just _had to_ see this.

Mr. Novak was a cold and calculating man at all times _but_ that one time Dean had caught him jerk off. And that time he had definitely been saying Dean’s name and probably been thinking about him too.

Dean sure had spent a lot of time _not_ thinking about Mr. Novak thinking about him.

So, yeah, Dean had to see this. Had to confirm that stoic Mr. Novak was indeed buying a pleasure girl and had to see her. And if possible, had to see Mr. Novak actually getting it on with her because… because reasons.

 _Because Mr. Novak said_ my _name._

Getting upstairs without being seen proved quite the task for Dean and he had to resolve to climb the pipes in the back and actually jumping in through a window. It felt risky as fuck but he was doing this for Sammy, right? Had to know his enemy and Mr. Novak was his enemy. The enemy with the information he needed so he needed to know something back, right?

Anyway, the problem he now faced was that he was currently standing in a poorly lit corridor with nothing but doors lining the walls. He heard voices coming from several of the rooms and some doors were open to reveal nothing more than bare rooms and a cloying smell surrounding unmade beds.

Dean walked as soundlessly as he could but knew from the loud noises that came from some of the rooms and from downstairs that he probably wouldn’t have been heard anyway.

He walked the length of the corridor and ruled out several rooms, both closed and unclosed, before he turned back and set to make his potential list shorter. He was nervous that he had taken too much time looking for a way inside and that Mr. Novak would already be finished and then what would he have to prove that this exercise had been necessary? Nothing. He just prayed that no one emerged from the rooms or downstairs while he was skulking the corridor.

One and a half rounds later he had narrowed it down to one of two doors. Both were closed and he couldn’t see anything through the key hole but Dean had thought he had heard Mr. Novak’s voice coming from either one. One had had an answering woman’s voice and the other had had nothing.

Just as Dean had decided on the one with the woman in it the door to that room flung open. Dean was too unprepared and just ended up rooted to the spot but fortunately enough the people that spilled from the room didn’t even spare him a glance as they tumbled away from him and towards the stairs. Okay, so Mr. Novak was in the other room then because that sure as hell hadn’t been him with his arm slung around a pig-nosed brunette.

Dean turned to the last room available and took a deep breath before wishing for some luck and then simply pushing the door a little. It didn’t budge and Dean gritted his teeth before trying the handle. And yeah, that opened real easy.

He didn’t open the door completely, just enough that he got a good look of the room and okay, that was totally Mr. Novak up there on the bed.

He once again had his back turned to Dean as he sat on his knees behind a man and _fucking hell, Mr. Novak was fucking a man up the ass_. Dean’s jaw dropped open in honest shock. He had expected something, just didn’t know what, but it definitely hadn’t been this.

Mr. Novak had his shirt on but his frock coat lay slung over the headrest of the bed. His breeches were pulled down to bundle at his knees and his hair was matted with sweat, curling damply against his neck.

He made these little huffing sounds as he fucked into the man that was standing on all fours in front of Mr. Novak, his ass pressed against Mr. Novak’s pelvis. The man had dirty blonde hair but that was about as much as Dean could make of him except for the whining noises Mr. Novak’s thrusts wrung out of him.

Mr. Novak gripped the man’s hips hard and growled something that Dean didn’t hear but fuck, that _sound_.

The man gasped and arched his back. "Y-yes." He answered to whatever Mr. Novak had asked.

Mr. Novak groaned deeply and flung his head back far enough that Dean could see him clenching his jaws. Dean’s palms were sweaty just from standing there watching and he knew why but didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Then Mr. Novak changed his grip suddenly, snaking one hand down below the other man but something changed when he did. His whole back went rigid and Dean didn’t know why but he got this sense of icy dread in the pit of his stomach.

Both men on the bed stopped moving abruptly.

"What’s this?" Mr. Novak asked, voice dangerously low.

"I-I…" the man on the bed turned his head to try and look at Mr. Novak. He humped back slightly but Mr. Novak didn’t budge. "It’s fine. C’mon sir, fuck me."

"No."

Mr. Novak was sliding out of the man before he had even finished that one syllable and Dean couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.

"Sir, please." The man pleaded and turned on the bed, making grabby hands at Mr. Novak but Mr. Novak was pushing him away. "Let me suck you, I’m good, I swear it."

"Leave." Mr. Novak commanded in a low voice that made Dean flinch.

"But-but I—"

"Just _leave_." Mr. Novak growled and the man jerked back in sudden fear. " Take your filthy money and leave me alone." The man made a whining noise and tried one last time to duck down and finish his job but he was interrupted by Mr. Novak backhanding him.

The blow didn’t look particularly hard and honestly it looked like that had been the first time Mr. Novak had struck anyone. The man looked more shocked than hurt and he hurried to scramble out of the bed.

Dean swiveled out of sight just as the man burst through the door, oddly tear-eyed and with his clothes in a bundle in his arms.

This was hands-down the goddamn strangest and fucked-up situation Dean had ever witnessed. But now he had his angle very clear. Now he knew _exactly_ what he could and would have to do and he could do it, for Sammy.

He took a deep breath, pushed down any feelings about Mr. Novak’s feelings, and pushed the door open only to stride in confidently.

Mr. Novak was sitting on the bed, the sheets crumpled around him and a rum bottle in his left hand. He looked positively wrecked and Dean had to stop himself before his features softened from cocky to sympathetic.

"Mr. Winchester." Mr. Novak exclaimed but didn’t do a damn thing to cover himself up or make himself look more presentable.

"Please, call me Dean." Dean smirked and watched with satisfaction how Mr. Novak’s brow knitted in confusion. "I have come here to talk to you on equal terms, after all."

Mr. Novak’s eyes narrowed considerably and Dean smirked wider. "What do you want?" he asked and Dean shrugged off-handedly before turning to the door and shutting it. He noted sourly that it didn’t have a lock but it would have to do.

"I’m here with a business proposal, Mr. Novak." He said and turned around. His smirk nearly fell when he saw how small Mr. Novak looked, sitting there on the bed with only his rum to keep him company.

He remembered how Mr. Novak had looked that night Dean had stumbled across his secret and how he had looked while thanking Dean for the rum. How sad Mr. Novak appeared to really be.

But Dean had to find Sammy and that was priority one so he just stashed his personal feelings way down.

"Go on." Mr. Novak said tiredly.

"You see, I couldn’t help but noticing that that man wasn’t enough to satisfy you just now." Dean grinned wickedly when he saw the almost panicked face Mr. Novak let slip at that statement. "And I also happen to know that you have information that I want. So here’s what I was thinking," he slipped up to sit on the bed, very much closer to Mr. Novak than he normally would be okay with. Mr. Novak’s breath hitched, Dean noticed curiously. "What say you and me do something about your aching cock and you give me that information?"

Let’s get one thing straight; Dean was terrified at this moment. One, he was propositioning a _man_ about sex. Two, he was propositioning a _pirate_ about sex. And three, _holy fuck he was offering to have sex with a man_. Sam had better well be alive and thankful when Dean found him.

Mr. Novak had shrunken in on himself as Dean leaned closer and his eyes were impossibly wide as he stared at Dean. He looked just as scared at Dean felt and Dean couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.

"What information?" Mr. Novak eventually breathed and Dean nodded, pleased that he hadn’t been rebuffed at first try.

"I know you sell people as slaves." He stated and nodded when Mr. Novak did. "And you do it in Nassau, correct?"

"Yes." Mr. Novak answered in a low voice.

Dean nodded again. "You sold my little brother, Sam Winchester, I want him back."

Several emotions flickered over Mr. Novak’s face but it was too fast for Dean to read. His features eventually settled into the mask of indifference he usually wore.

"When?"

Dean pursed his lips and tried to remain calm. Of course Mr. Novak wouldn’t remember one man amongst all the others. He couldn’t help it if he didn’t know Sam was the gentlest, smartest person Dean knew. Still, Dean had to remind himself of this before he continued.

"Not two months ago."

Mr. Novak nodded. "The _HMS Cutlass_." He stated more than asked and Dean almost wanted to cry at the mention of the name of the ship that had carried Sam away.

" Yes."

"I remember." Mr. Novak said in a low voice.

"Great." Dean said in a clipped tone. "So you’ll give me information about the buyer? I swear I’ll make it good for you." He tried grinning seductively and thought he succeeded when he saw Mr. Novak’s lips tremble for the slightest moment. "Just tell me what that other guy did wrong so I won’t disappoint you." No matter that Dean had never had any kind of sexual relationship with a man before, he was good at sex and he _would_ make this work.

Mr. Novak swallowed and an internal battled seemed to rage behind his downcast eyes. Dean didn’t know why but he started getting nervous Mr. Novak would change his mind just as the other man looked up.

"He…" he swallowed again and looked away, completely unlike the Mr. Novak Dean knew. "He didn’t enjoy it." He mumbled weakly and Dean frowned in confusion.

"What?" he remembered seeing Mr. Novak’s hand disappearing under the man. "Was that why you kicked him out? You felt him up and he wasn’t hard?"

Mr. Novak was resolutely not looking at Dean but Dean saw his jaw clench and knew that he had hit home. But fucking hell, that couldn’t be true, could it? Mr. Novak was a pirate, why would a pirate care about what a whore thought?

"Well," Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. "You _were_ fucking him up the ass. I mean, how comfortable is that?"

Mr. Novak turned to glare at him then and holy shit, Dean realized that he had just given away the fact that he knew nothing about men having sex with men. He swallowed and tried to divert the attention of his faux paz with a grin he knew could charm the skirts off any woman. And okay, Mr. Novak was a man but that grin was apparently universal, Dean thought as Mr. Novak actually fucking blushed. Good to know.

"No matter." Dean said and actually dared to put a hand on Mr. Novak’s knee. Mr. Novak didn’t jerk away but Dean felt him tense. "As long as you promise me to get me what I need then I promise to deliver to you with a smile, deal?"

Mr. Novak sighed deeply and actually looked torn. Like he wanted to agree and wanted to push Dean away at the same time and Dean didn’t know why. Sure, he knew he was a moderately good-looking man and apparently Mr. Novak was into men, which was fine, but if he didn’t want to agree to Dean’s deal then he could just say so, right? No need to hesitate. Was Dean uncertain that he could get it up for a man enough to satisfy Mr. Novak’s needs? Sure. Would he bend himself backwards trying? Totally.

And as Dean saw Mr. Novak nodding he didn’t know if the man had assumed as much or if he was hoping for something else. Dude had been jerking it to thoughts of Dean after all, maybe he was hoping…? No, Dean pushed those thoughts aside because they were _not true_.

" No here." Mr. Novak mumbled the second before Dean was about to ask how he wanted it.

"What?"

Mr. Novak shook his head. "I don’t like this place and the door has no lock, let’s get back to the ship."

While Dean agreed with all of that he still scrunched up his face in confusion when Mr. Novak stood to get dressed.

"I get it if you want privacy but how much privacy will we have at the ship? Your door isn’t exactly five inches thick and everyone knows us." Plus he had already witnessed Mr. Novak in a compromising situation there, what’s to say it wouldn’t happen again? Couldn’t say that, though. No, that was a secret he saw himself taking to the grave.

Mr. Novak downed an unhealthy amount of rum while Dean talked and Dean couldn’t help but watch as the man’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Mr. Novak finished his drink with a satisfied grunt that reminded Dean of what the man had sounded like just minutes before he kicked out the whore and he had to tear his eyes away when Mr. Novak turned to him. Had to get a goddamn grip.

"At least my door has a lock and almost everyone will be here, not at the ship. It’ll be better—"

Dean rose when Mr. Novak started buttoning his surprisingly nice frock coat. "You know." He purred in his most seductive tone and watched as Mr. Novak’s eyes widened again. "No one knows I’m in here. I climbed the walls, as far as the crew’s concerned I’m either at the ship or somewhere else _outside_ of this brothel, if them knowing about this is what concerns you." Frankly, it concerned Dean as well.

He watched in fascination as Mr. Novak’s fingers trembled against the buttons. "Then you can climb the walls down again." He stated in a tone that sounded like a shadow of his usual composure but it sent the message clear enough. Sure, Mr. Novak apparently wanted Dean to fuck him or whatever but Dean _needed_ Mr. Novak’s help.

Dean held up his hands in defeat and smiled placatingly. "Whatever you say, Mr. Novak."

Mr. Novak’s eyes narrowed and he grabbed the rum bottle on his way out. "And I say I’ll be seeing you in my cabin in a moment, Mr. Winchester."

Dean swallowed as he watched the door Mr. Novak closed behind him. Fuck, he had just bitten off more than he could chew, hadn’t he? And somehow he knew there was more to this than Mr. Novak just wanting a good fuck.

He sighed and carded his hand through his short hair. "For Sammy." He reminded himself and squared his jaw resolutely before making his way to the ship.

  
  



	4. We all make mistakes

  
  


Castiel was wringing his hands because he was nervous and he _hated_ it. But he had gotten himself in quite a mess now and he thought it justified the wringing of ones hands. Because somehow Mr. Winchester — Dean — had managed to find out that Castiel wanted him. Or he had at least found out that Castiel liked men and that-that was something _no one_ was supposed to know.

Oh, he couldn’t fall for Dean and he knew it. Had known it the first time he lay somewhat sober eyes on the man but Dean… Dean was just so beautiful and Castiel had justified his unreasonable desires with the fact that Dean was also a pirate. Sure, he may or may not have been forced into servitude but surely he was just as bad as the rest of them?

But no, Castiel had known after just a couple of weeks that Dean was nothing like the rest of them and the man had confirmed it when he had practically begged Castiel with his eyes not to sell those people from that merchant ship. He had seen it in the disgusted way Dean had accepted his share of the loot and he had heard it tonight, in the pleading tone with which Dean had asked for Castiel’s help.

Suddenly it made so much more sense to him. The way Dean had never fitted in was because he truly didn’t. He wasn’t there to pillage and plunder like Captain Crowley and he wasn’t running from a horrid past like Castiel. He was running towards his baby brother, to deliver unto him the salvation of freedom. He had figured out it was Castiel’s crew that had wrenched his brother from him and he had figured out that it was Castiel that called the shots on who got sold and who didn’t. And he was willing to sacrifice his own dignity by working with the crew and selling his own body, just to get his brother back.

Yes, Dean Winchester was truly a righteous man but Castiel couldn’t stop himself from corrupting him. Because Dean was everything Castiel had ever wanted but didn’t deserve and he was offering himself to Castiel. How could he refuse?

Oh, for a number of reasons, of course and two main ones to be specific.

One, Leviticus 18:22.  
"Thou shalt not lie with mankind as with womankind: it is abomination." He whispered fervently as he listened for the creak that was Dean walking to his cabin.

Two, Leviticus 19:11.  
"You shall not deal falsely; you shall not lie to one another." And there it was, there was that creak and Castiel could almost see Dean outside his cabin door.

The knock was silent but Castiel flung the door open before it was even finished.

Dean looked surprised but then he smiled that wondrous smile that Castiel had never seen before tonight.

"Someone’s eager?" Dean said with laughter in his voice but he looked nervous as well and Castiel couldn’t blame him. Dean was clearly not interested in men and was only doing this because he needed information of his brother’s whereabouts.

He let Dean in by stepping to the side and thought that yes, he was clearly going to hell for this. Not just because he wanted Dean’s sinful lips on his body but mostly because Castiel had no goddamn idea where Dean’s brother was.

Oh, he knew they sold the slaves in Nassau but that was as far as his knowledge went because that trade was the one and only that Captain Crowley insisted on doing all by himself. Most likely because he knew Castiel was far too soft on the slaves. In fact, ever since he had caught Castiel feeding the slaves as they sat huddled down in the brig he hadn’t let Castiel near them once they were secured. Didn’t stop Castiel from sneaking down there and feeding the slaves his rations but it sure as hell stopped him from knowing where they went. Who bought who? Who went into prostitution and who to work? Castiel would never know. And he should tell Dean all of this right now.

But Dean was looking at Castiel with this honest expression and his eyes shone with hope beneath the nervousness and Castiel was too selfish not let himself have this. He could perhaps… perhaps he could tell the man after? But after what? After he had betrayed his trust? Raped him?

"So," Dean said and looked at Castiel with a grin that Castiel wasn’t entirely sure he could live without. "What do you wanna do?"

Oh damn it all to hell.

He gestured for Dean to step further in as he locked the door and he watched as Dean looked around the tiny cabin. It was curiosity Castiel saw in the man’s green eyes and he wondered if Dean thought he kept a log about the slaves that he hid here in his cabin. What Castiel wouldn’t give to be able to give Dean something like that…

Castiel gulped when Dean turned back to him with a flourish and it was probably audile. With Dean here, inside Castiel’s secure little bubble, it was hard to remain stoic and indifferent. Dean was just so bright that Castiel didn’t know what to do with himself.

And the Dean apparently got tired of waiting because Castiel suddenly found himself backed up against the wall beside the door and goddamnit, his breath hitched when Dean pressed close and smiled invitingly.

"I know I haven’t had any experience with a man and I know that’s what you want but," Dean shrugged as if the whole sleeping-with-a-man thing didn’t fazed him. As if that wasn’t even part of the actual problem. "But I’ll make up for it with a sassy attitude. You know, I’ve been with my fair share of women, I know what I like them doing to me, why don’t I just do something like that?"

He was looking at Castiel as if he wanted guidance and Castiel knew he was the one with the theoretical leverage here but he still couldn’t make another sound other than a strangled moan.

Dean’s eyes flicked down to Castiel’s lips and Castiel slipped out his tongue to wet them on mere reflex. Dean didn’t seem fazed by this either.

"So," Dean started, his eyes still trained on Castiel’s lips. "I know you’re the one in charge around here and I respect that, Mr. Novak, but—"

"Castiel."

"What?"

Castiel closed his eyes momentarily. "My name’s Castiel, please don’t call me Mr. Novak while we’re in here." Doing this, he wanted to add but didn’t because the actual truth was that he wanted Dean to call him by his first name all the time.

"Okay then, _Cas_." Dean purred and oh God, he was so close all of a sudden. " You dominating in bed or what?"

Normally, Castiel may have been inclined to say yes but Dean was robbing him of his breath so all he managed was a small gasp. Dean smirked at him and that was all the warning he got before Dean pressed their lips together.

Castiel’s knees trembled and he sighed into the kiss before he even understood what was happening. Dean put a hand on Castiel’s hip and that made it all so much more intense somehow. Dean tasted like nothing Castiel had tasted before, like coming home, and he moaned when he successfully licked Dean’s mouth open.

Dean let him take control after that Castiel responded by fisting Dean’s shirt and switching their positions, manhandling Dean against the wall and tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

Dean’s hands wandered over Castiel’s back and he clenched Castiel’s hips when Castiel slotted his thigh between his legs. Dean withdrew as far as he could considering the wall and Castiel was bewildered because he could have sworn he had felt Dean’s dick hardening.

He let Dean stop them all the same, if nothing else than for the mere enjoyment of seeing Dean all breathless.

"Well," Dean harrumphed and Castiel wanted to put his lips against Dean’s throat and make him do it again. "Well, that was something." He looked away, almost bashful, and Castiel couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.

"Dean." He mumbled and leaned in to capture Dean’s lips again but the other man stopped him.

"H-hey, how about I suck you off?"

Castiel drew back and frowned at Dean. Not that Castiel didn’t want Dean’s plump lips around his aching dick but he was starting to get the feeling that this was about something more than Dean not wanting to do anything sexual. Actually, Dean was starting to look flustered and… and Castiel was liking it.

"Okay." He said and stepped back to fumble open his breeches but Dean stopped him, his mischievous smirk back.

He pushed lightly at Castiel’s shoulders until he had backed up enough for the back of his knees to hit his chair.

"Sit." Dean asked and Castiel obliged with a twinkle in his eyes because Dean managed to look coy and cocky at the same time and it was doing things to Castiel’s already hard dick.

His breath hitched, _again_ , when he saw Dean lowering himself to his knees in front of him. He spread his legs and Dean took advantage of the invitation and shuffled forward so he easily could reach.

Castiel couldn’t help it, he moaned throatily when Dean first put his hands on his thighs. Dean’s hands were warm and broad and he winked at Castiel in such a blatant display of sexuality that Castiel didn’t know what to do with himself. He resolved to grip the arm rests of the chair and stare, wide-eyed, as Dean reached in and undid the rest of Castiel’s breeches.

When his dick sprung free he leaned his head back and groaned deeply, the feeling of being free the most wondrous feeling yet. He looked down when he heard and audible click and realized that that click had been Dean’s tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth as he swallowed.

Dean met Castiel’s eyes when Castiel cupped his cheek. He smiled wobbly and Castiel met his gaze steadily. He put his other hand down by his dick, his thumb brushing the base, and reveled in the way Dean’s eyes widened. Yes, it was very clear to Castiel now that Dean had more bark than bite when it came to this and that he most certainly was doing it only to save his brother. Somehow, that made him an even better man in Castiel’s eyes and it made this so much more difficult while at the same time making it deliciously sinful.

"Do you see, Dean?" he rumbled and stroked his dick once to get Dean’s attention back to it. "Do you see what you do to me? How do you think that feels, looking at you and thinking about this but never having it?"

Oh, he was giving away much too much, he knew that. But he was quickly getting drunk on the sight of Dean on his knees, quicker than on rum, even, and he loved the feeling.

Dean licked his lips. "You can have it." He answered in a surprisingly raspy voice and Castiel had to catch himself before he groaned.

"Yes." He just agreed and used the hand on Dean’s cheek to pull him closer. "Show me how much you want it, Dean."

And God, Dean _really_ wanted it, whether it was the information or Castiel’s dick, as Castiel so desperately wanted to imagine. The man wrapped his soft lips around the head of Castiel’s hard dick and the pleasure that shot through him at just that slight touch was nearly too much for Castiel’s already fragile mind.

He really groaned now, low and deep and he let go of both Dean and his dick in favor of letting Dean explore as he wished. He was clearly inexperienced at sucking cock but he was sure giving it one hell of a try and Castiel certainly wasn’t complaining.

He spread his legs wider and sunk down in the seat to lean his head back and give Dean better access. God, Dean’s tongue was hot and wet and he made these little gagging sounds when he took too much in, which made Castiel moan. He fought desperately against the need to fuck up into Dean’s mouth, not because he wouldn’t love it but because he couldn’t bear to hurt the man.

Dean pulled off with a wet pop and held Castiel’s straining dick steady with one hand, an adorable little frown on his brow. He looked up and met Castiel’s no doubt lust-blown eyes with pupils that Castiel wished desperately were big because of arousal and not just the dim light in the cabin.

"This is difficult." Dean stated in an almost accusatory tone that maybe would have had Castiel laughing under different circumstances. As it was now, the raspiness of his voice just made Castiel moan pathetically but Dean didn’t laugh at him. He just directed his frown down at Castiel’s dick that apparently liked the attention because it jerked and let out a big blob of precum.

"Dean." Castiel moaned and he knew it sounded strangled but goddamnit, this beautiful man that Castiel had been pining over for weeks were finally sitting here but he was only _looking_ at Castiel.

" Are you even sure I’m doing it right?" Dean asked sternly but he looked up in surprise when Castiel couldn’t hold that whimper in.

"Dean, please." He rasped and watched as Dean swallowed. "_Please_."

" Yeah, okay." Dean breathed and Castiel would have given him the world right then.

He just bent down and swallowed as much as he could and Castiel couldn’t help but buck up at the feeling. It just felt so good and Dean was so eager in his ministrations. Castiel wished desperately that he was naked, that Dean was naked. That they could lie down and hold each other and that Dean would make love to him while whispering sweet nothings against his hair as Castiel orgasmed.

But he wouldn’t and they couldn’t.

This was all Castiel could have and he was committing a sin for even wanting it and another one for taking what obviously wasn’t his to take. Oh, Dean would hate him so much but Castiel couldn’t remember clearly why at this moment. Could only feel as Dean’s mouth worked around him and as the man’s hands clenched at his hips.

He was sweating and panting in no time at all and Castiel knew that this wouldn’t ever have taken much time even if he hadn’t already been so close to coming from that awful whore before. As much as he hated that whore for pretending to like it, he loved Dean for not pretending. Dean was open with what this meant to him and Castiel ached for the man even as he felt Dean coaxing an orgasm out of him.

Too long, it had been too long since he felt the touch of a man and even longer since he had let himself like it but it felt _so good_. So good to just let go.

" Dean." He said warningly when he got too close. "Oh God, Dean you…" he groaned and snagged a hand in Dean’s short hair to pull the man up and away from his dick.

"Let me finish, Cas." Dean scolded and gripped Castiel’s dick.

And Castiel was too close to exploding for him to hold it. He groaned and thrust up into Dean’s fist as he came in thick, hot spurts all over his own chest. Dean remained on his knees, watching with big eyes and stroking Castiel through his orgasm like he wanted to do nothing else.

Castiel exhaled in a big whoosh when he was done and he slumped back against the chair. He wanted so much in that moment. To laugh, to cry, to pray his sins away. But mostly to pin Dean to the floor and kiss him senseless.

It took him a moment before he dared look down at the other man and what he saw made his throat close up with a renewed flare of arousal. Dean was _still_ on his knees in front of Castiel. He was studying his hand that had gotten some ejaculate on it and there was a bulge between his legs that Castiel was certain was just his breeches bunching up but that he wanted desperately to be an erection.

" Well." Dean said and smiled at Castiel when he noticed him staring. "That did the trick, didn’t it?"

Castiel swallowed and nodded silently, wanting to cherish the glow in Dean’s eyes but knowing where this was headed.

"I’m…" he coughed when he heard how rough his voice sounded. "Could you give me some time about your brother?" he asked, wanting to be the first to burst the bubble, hoping it would hurt less if he was. It didn’t.

Dean blinked at him and suddenly seemed to realize what they were doing and where he was, which was odd, Castiel thought.

"Y-yeah." Dean said and rubbed his neck with his clean hand. "Sure, we’ll just… I mean, we’ll get some sleep and we’ll talk later, right?"

"Right." Castiel agreed and watched how Dean stumbled to his feet. "And Dean," he said when Dean was almost at the door. "Not a word."

Dean smiled a stilted smile and nodded curtly. "Not a word." He parroted and let himself out.

Castiel sighed and leaned back in his chair again. He was certain he had done the right thing in sending Dean away right after but he was uncertain on why it hurt so much. Sure, he wanted Dean to stay with him forever but he also knew that Dean didn’t want that and he definitely knew that it was dangerous to be thinking along those lines. Had been there before and that had only led him to where he was now.

No, this thing with Dean was nothing but a business proposal, as Dean had suggested, and it would forever stay that way. Dean seemed like an honest man and Castiel knew he would hold up his end of the bargain, Castiel only wished there was some way for him to do the same. He hadn’t been fooling Dean when he told him he needed time to figure about the situation about Dean’s brother, he just hoped he could come up with some kind of solution quickly enough.

He felt trapped in a corner and he didn’t like it. On the one hand he wanted Dean happy and on the other he wanted the man for himself. Castiel hadn’t been happy in seven years and he now felt more caged than usual, caught between his wants and needs.

He sighed and resolved to change clothes before going to sleep, determined not to think about Dean’s sparkling eyes and mischievous smile. It didn’t work.

  
  



	5. Know thy enemy

  
  


It had now been three days since Dean had agreed to give Cas space and they were well away from Morgan’s Bluff and headed into, for Dean, unknown territory. True to his word, Dean had not pestered Cas about the information he wanted and he was sure Cas hadn’t blabbed about their little encounter because he was sure he would be dead by now if that was the case.

Anyway, the days dragged on and Dean got more and more anxious because Cas wasn’t acting any different around Dean than he had before. Which was cool, Dean supposed. Didn’t want to draw attention to them after all. And Dean thought Cas was really loyal to the ship and her Captain so he supposed the man needed time to think his decision over. Still, it wasn’t as if Dean had asked Cas to commit mutiny over a teeny blowjob that Dean certainly wasn’t remembering vividly when he had nothing better to do.

So what the hell was taking the man so long? Sure, maybe he didn’t have Sam’s new owner’s goddamn address and of course Dean didn’t expect Cas to remember where they had dropped off every slave but surely he had paperwork of it as he had of everything else? What the hell was the problem with simply pulling out the right paper?

By day four Dean was seething and he dared corner Cas when the man did he daily inspection of the cargo hold.

"A word?" he asked brusquely and tapped Cas on the shoulder as he walked past the man. He heard, rather than saw, that Cas followed him and he smirked to himself. Sure, he would never do something like that where someone else could see; they both had their parts to play, after all. But it felt empowering somehow, knowing he could get the stoic Cas to do his bidding. Flashes of Cas’ flushed face flittered through Dean’s mind but he pushed them aside. He was here for Sam, after all.

"What is it?" Cas asked when they had ventured far enough behind the cargo that the chance of them being spotted was slim to none. Dean thought briefly that this was where the crew took Brady when they fancied a fuck.

"Have you gotten a chance to look for Sam?" he asked and put his hands in his pockets, watching as Cas watched his every movement.

It took a little while for Cas’ eyes to drag themselves up to Dean’s. "No."

Dean couldn’t believe what the hell he was hearing. "What do you mean, no?"

Cas sighed obnoxiously. "I haven’t had time. In case you haven’t noticed I have an entire ship to run, your needs are rather low on the list."

Dean wanted to throttle the man. "I fucking sucked your dick, Cas." He hissed angrily. "You promised me information and you _will_ give it to me."

Cas’ eyes turned a steely dark blue so quickly Dean could do nothing but stare and remember that Cas was not Cas out here but Mr. Novak. He swallowed and almost fucking hiccupped when Mr. Novak barreled right into Dean’s personal space, crowding him against the wall in a much different way than that night in the cabin.

"You would be wise not to think so little of me." Mr. Novak rumbled in a dangerously low tone that didn’t send a spark to Dean’s dick because fuck you. "You may not believe me tough like you but make no mistake, I have survived for years as a pirate on my wit alone. Do _not_ presume to threaten me, Mr. Winchester."

Dean swallowed again, louder this time because fuck if his dick didn’t twitch at Mr. Novak’s words, voice, _proximity_. Mr. Novak’s everything in this moment aroused Dean as much as it scared him and it made his knees weak enough that he had to grip the wall behind him. He hated his reactions just as much as he hated Mr. Novak at this moment.

" Sure, Mr. Novak." He grunted in an effort to sound unaffected but Mr. Novak, the bastard, just trailed his eyes up and down Dean’s trembling body before stepping back.

"‘Til next time, Mr. Winchester." He stated curtly and walked away, hands clasped behind his back and as aloof as usual.

Dean gritted his teeth in anger. Why the fuck had he ever propositioned the man? Why had he thought anything had changed between them? Just because he thought he had caught Mr. Novak in a weak moment? Why would he even think that? What the hell did Mr. Novak mean by "next time"? And, more importantly, _why_ was Dean’s body reacting like this? Again?!

Oh, Dean hadn’t fucking forgotten the furious hard-on he had gotten from sucking Mr. Novak’s dick and he certainly hadn’t forgotten the humiliation he had suffered when Mr. Novak promptly had kicked him out after he was done. As if Dean didn’t mean anything and as if he had just been pretending to be this tender guy that Dean actually caught himself getting aroused about. As if he had played Dean all along.

And, worse, Dean had most certainly not forgotten the humiliation of having to jerk off all the same, thoughts of Mr. Novak’s breathless moans echoing in his mind.

"Fuck you, Mr. Castiel fucking Novak." He gritted angrily.

  
  


*****

  
  


Days later Dean had still not quite gotten over the fact that Mr. Novak seemingly had used him and he certainly hadn’t gotten over the fucking fact that he had woken up on more than one occasion with a hard-on from dreams featuring too-blue eyes.

"Just what the hell is he’s fucking deal?" Dean muttered and tore more than necessary at the lines he was carefully tying together to mend the fishing net.

"Easy." Brady admonished him and Dean pretended to care about the net just as he was pretending not to notice the rope burns around Brady’s wrists. They had not been on the open sea for more than two weeks and the boys were already getting rougher with Brady. Dean had heard the screams from the cargo hold echo all the way up to the sleeping bay. Then again, Brady never left _The Hellgate_ so Dean supposed it wasn’t his problem.

" Whose deal?" Alastair asked in his drawl and Dean gave up any pretense of trying to fix the net.

"Mr. Novak."

"What about him?"

Dean rolled his eyes and nodded toward the rudder where Mr. Novak was currently talking to Guthrie. Of course he couldn’t tell the other pirates about his and Mr. Novak’s deal and of course he wasn’t about to tell them that he thought it was strange how the man was "Mr. Novak" out here, all high and mighty, and how he had been plain "Cas" in his cabin, gripping his chair as Dean sucked him off and pleading for completion all the while. But he was mad and he wanted to know where the hell Mr. Novak got off making a fool out of Dean. Over two weeks since they made their deal and not a word from the man about Sam. Fucking perfect.

"He’s not a pirate." Dean muttered. "Why is he here?"

"Well, not _everyone_ on a pirate ship is a real pirate." Brady said and dipped his head in Dean’s direction. Point taken.

" So he has his own reason for sailing around the seas?"

"Sure, like everyone." Brady shrugged and pulled the lines closer to continue where Dean had left off.

"I heard he killed a man." Alastair said casually but Dean narrowed his eyes in disbelief.

"Nah, not him." He said as he eyed Mr. Novak. The man was watching the wind and still talking to Guthrie, probably about their course. Sure, Mr. Novak could be intimidating and it was unsettling how he kept different personas but he was a survivor, not a killer. Dean had seen it in his eyes.

"What are we talking about?" Rosco, another long-timer, said as he casually joined them. Dean didn’t like him but Brady barreled right over Dean, of fucking course.

"Mr. Novak, why d’you think he joined _The Hellgate_?"

Rosco grinned and shifted his chewing tobacco from one side of his mouth to the other. "Easy, he raped children and had to flee his town when he got found out or they were gonna kill him."

Dean snorted at the obvious exaggeration. "I’m sure it wasn’t something like _that_."

" Why? Something wrong with loving children?" Rosco grinned at Dean’s appalled face. He knew they were pirates here and pirates did awful stuff, everyone knew that, but holy hell.

"Shut your face." He snarled but Rosco just laughed.

"Hear me out, I heard that he was a priest in Cap-Haïtien and he used the choir boys."

Dean didn’t know why but his skin was crawling with the need to defend Mr. Novak. No, to defend Cas. But he didn’t get a chance before Azazel plopped down on the other side of Alastair, already much too invested in their conversation for someone who had been below deck just a few minutes ago.

"You’re almost right, Rosco." He said in a conspiratorially whisper that made Dean prickly about the fact that they were talking about Mr. Novak behind his back. "He _was_ a priest in Cap-Haïtien, but it wasn’t choir boys he raped, it was this native man who had come in to become a part of Mr. Novak’s flock." Azazel continued as the other men leaned in as one, listening intently. " That poor man came for food and shelter and received it only in exchange for participating in Mr. Novak’s sick fantasies. When that man finally told some of the other priests, Mr. Novak got excommunicated and publicly shamed. He was gonna hang but he fled and became a pirate instead." The rest of them sat silent for a while, just staring at Azazel who only nodded his head wisely.

"Well, how the fuck do you know?" Dean pressed out after too long. For some reason he didn’t want to believe Azazel’s story but somehow it had seemed so real and not farfetched enough.

"I know people in Cap-Haïtien." Azazel replied with a shrug. "A priest raping a poor soul? Yeah, word about something like that is gonna spread."

"Exactly, it’s just empty rumors."

"What the fuck do you care?" Alastair grimaced at Dean when Dean couldn’t find the proper answer because why did he care?

He was thankfully spared from answering when the very man they had been talking about suddenly loomed over them.

"What is this?" Mr. Novak asked, his gravelly voice sounding sterner than usual. "Are you pirates or are you fancy ladies at a tea party? Get back to work."

It was eerie to see how a man smaller than them could make the crew scrabble to their respective stations without even raising his voice. Dean was the last to leave and he was rewarded with the usual stare Mr. Novak afforded anyone who slacked. Dean met his gaze steadily, though, wondering if he was meeting the eyes of a murderer, a child rapist, or simply just another lost soul.

  
  


*****

  
  


It was only two days later that Dean found himself standing outside Mr. Novak’s cabin, staring at the door and seething with the need for answers. Answers about Mr. Novak’s past, about Sam, about why the hell Dean’s skin _still_ prickled when he felt those goddamn eyes on him.

He knocked on the door maybe a little too harshly and he glanced around guiltily to make sure none of the night shift had heard him.

He heard a distinct grumbled from behind the door and a moment later it swung open to reveal a clearly disgruntled Mr. Novak.

"Mr. Winchester, I hope this is important."

Yeah, Dean shifted from anxious to freaking pissed off real quick. "It is." He gritted and Mr. Novak sighed before walking back to his bed, leaving Dean to follow as he wished.

"What’s this about?" Mr. Novak asked as he sat down on his bed and Dean shut the door behind his back.

"What the fuck do you think this is about?"

"Are you here to threaten me and nag me about your brother?" Mr. Novak ventured but his tone made Dean frown. It wasn’t the usually demanding and superior tone Mr. Novak talked to the crew with; this was once again only Cas looking up at Dean, sleepy-eyed and stripped of his mental protection.

Seeing Cas like this made Dean suddenly feel incredibly guilty about cornering Mr. Novak in the cargo hold. Clearly that had all been an act on the other man’s part and Dean cursed himself for not seeing it and at the same time his confusion and anger just got worse. It all made Dean uneasy as hell.

"What the hell is this about?" Dean asked and gestured at Cas’ crumbled features.

Cas raised his eyebrows in confusion. "What?"

"I don’t know who the fuck you are, Cas." Dean spat. "Outside this fucking door you’re Mr. Novak, cold and calculating, and inside you’re this whole other person. A man that told me he would help me find my little brother." _And who gasped when I sucked him off._

Cas sighed and carded a hand through his already ruffled bedhead. "I don’t know what you want me to say?"

That was actually an excellent question and one Dean didn’t even know the answer to himself, which only served to make him madder.

"I want to know the real you." He demanded and a voice at the back of his head was screaming that this wasn’t his business, that Cas was just another pirate and that Dean should want nothing to do with him except Sammy’s whereabouts. He ignored that voice. "Do you know the men are gossiping behind your back?"

Cas snorted. "Of course I do. They love to do it and even more so with you new recruits. What is it this time? I killed babies or I stole the Governor’s silver?"

Dean squared his jaw and didn’t know why but felt like hurting the other man. Cas wasn’t taking this seriously and Dean desperately needed him to. "They say you were a priest and that you raped a man who was a part of your parish. That you fled after your sin was exposed."

Fucking hell, that struck a chord in Cas, Dean could clearly see. Cas kind of sunk in on himself and Dean wanted to take the words back as soon as he saw what effect they had on the other man. Cas just looked away, clearly pained by memories.

"I never raped him." He said, his voice cracking in a way Dean had never heard. "I loved him. My sin was loving a man." He shook his head. "The wrong man." He corrected in a lowly voice.

Dean snorted because he had to maintain an appearance of not caring, couldn’t, for some reason, let on how Cas’ crestfallen appearance was affecting him. "That wasn’t it." He said firmly and crossed his arms over his chest. "People may not like it but men sleep with men when the need gets too strong, if you knew what goes on down in the cargo hold you wouldn’t—"

"You don’t think I know?" Cas hissed, suddenly angry. "I know _everything_ that goes on here. My sin wasn’t fucking a hole, it was loving another man even though I had other options. Even though I could have had women, even though I had promised myself to the church, I still fell in love with _him_." Cas closed his blue eyes as if the memory was causing him physical pain. He turned away and Dean sat down on the chair, facing Cas.

" Who was he?" he asked after a long time spent in silence because for some reason he needed to know.

Cas took a shuddering breath. "He was a native Haitian. He came to our church one night in the middle of a storm, seeking shelter. I… Of course I let him in. I cleaned him, I clothed him, and I fed him. He kept coming back." Cas swallowed and Dean saw, even though Cas had his face turned away, that the man was fighting tears. "I couldn’t pronounce his name, it amused him and he let me call him Raphael."

"Isn’t that an angel?" Dean asked when Cas’ pause had gotten too long. Cas nodded.

"The archangel who heals." He cleared his throat. "He used to say I saved him that stormy night but I felt as if he was saving me. He shared my bed for a year. He…" Cas’ breathing hitched and Dean wanted to reach out but didn’t. "He used to hold me at night and whisper promises to me as I fell asleep."

Dean didn’t know but it felt as if his own heart was fucking breaking listening to this. Cas looked so small on his bed, as if he had crumbled in on himself.

"What happened?" Dean asked in a whisper and wasn’t very surprised to hear his own voice cracking a little.

"He wanted us to run away. The church had gold, he wanted us to take it and leave on the next outbound ship. I-I couldn’t let that happen so I told him no, we had a good life there." Cas suddenly met Dean’s eyes and he looked so pleading that Dean felt as if something broke inside him. "We really did."

"It sounds like you did." Dean mumbled in assurance but Cas shook his head and looked down at his hands.

"He didn’t think so. The day after I had told him no he went to the Monsignor and told him I had been keeping him as my slave. That I had raped him every night and had threatened to kill him if he ever told anyone."

Dean felt his throat close up. "Surely they wouldn’t believe him over you?"

"Why? Because he was just some native and I was a man of God?"

"Well, yes." Dean exclaimed even though he was pretty sure Sam would have wacked him up the head for saying something like that.

Cas smiled, though, even if it was a broken smile. It made Dean’s stomach churn uncomfortably.

"Some believed him, some didn’t. The Monsignor told me that Raphael had been able to provide proof of him being raped and he knew that many priests had seen Raphael at church late at night, especially on days I wasn’t attending mass." Cas fiddled abortively with the sheets. "I didn’t have anything to say to that, all I could think about was that Raphael apparently hated me enough to go out and let himself get raped only to have evidence enough to accuse me. And I still loved him." He looked up and Dean didn’t ever think he had seen someone look so sad. "I didn’t stay to argue my case, I packed my bags in the middle of the night and paid a captain down at the docks to take me away. Half of Cap-Haïtien had already heard by that time and I knew I was fleeing my responsibilities but that captain took me on his ship anyway. He told me that the sea is a far better judge of character than he would ever be but I suspect it was my money that did the real convincing."

"Was that when you became a pirate?" Dean asked in a low voice but Cas just shook his head with a decidedly unhealthy grin on his face.

"That came later, when I realized that I was too much of a coward to kill myself. I knew I needed to do penance, though, so I decided to live in the lowest part of society and see if I couldn’t do something good here." He shook his head again. "I thought if I was able to save just one of these poor souls I would redeem myself, one soul at a time. And I have been so good, too." He fisted the sheets and Dean could see Cas’ shoulders shaking but he didn’t know if it was in restrained anger or tears. "So many years and I have not sinned once, I have never taken pleasure in a man since Raphael, not once."

"There was no sin in your love." Dean insisted stubbornly even though he was a little nervous about breaching that particular subject. Love was a dangerous thing, Dean had understood that much over the years.

"The sin was loving the _wrong_ man, I told you." Cas hissed and nearly ripped his sheets as his fists shook.

" You did." Dean agreed amiably.

"And I was so good. Kept away from sin, locked away in this cabin, only having pain and rum and…" he looked up to meet Dean’s eyes again and Dean nearly jerked back at the blown pupils in Cas’ eyes. "And then there was you." Cas breathed, dangerously low.

"M-me?" Dean stuttered and hated how stupid he sounded.

Cas shook his head and thankfully lowered his eyes again. "So many years repenting and now…" he sighed deeply. "I’m tired, these memories are not treating me well."

"I-I’m sorry, Cas." Dean pressed out and came dangerously close to leaning in and touching the other man.

Cas sighed again. "Forgive me Dean, you just have to give me more time."

Dean nodded even though Cas couldn’t see and when the other man laid down on his bed, facing the wall, Dean knew enough to take his leave.

He stood a long while outside Cas’ cabin, though, thinking he might have gotten himself into some deeper shit than he had already been in.

  
  



	6. When the waves comes crashing

  
  


Dean spent several days after Cas’ revelation in a kind of haze. He felt lost and sad and he had a hard time hiding it from the rest of the crew but the constant reminder that his life probably depended on it got him through the motions.

Simply put, he didn’t know what to do. He _needed_ to find Sam and he wanted to hate Mr. Novak for being the one to take Sammy away but at the same time he wanted to hug Cas and tell him everything would be alright.

Because it stood perfectly clear to Dean now that Mr. Novak was just the façade that Cas had put up to survive. Cas probably hated Mr. Novak as much as Dean did and Dean found it was hard to even look at the man after he had heard Cas’ story.

And then there was the fucking fact that his libido had taken a hold on the images of Cas in the throes of passion, what the hell was up with that? Dean simply couldn’t focus and it nearly cost him his life when he walked along the sails on a still day, checking the lines, and if it hadn’t been for Alastair he probably would have fallen.

Great, so now he not only wanted to fucking save a pirate, he also owed his life to another one. But one saving at a time, right? Sam would always be first priority and Mr. Novak _did_ know something, Dean was absolutely certain. Only, Mr. Novak wouldn’t tell him and Cas, for some reason, couldn’t.

It was fucked up enough to make Dean tare at his hair and bang his head against a wall. Brady laughed at him when he sulked but thankfully enough left him alone.

Then, a couple of days later, he got wind of their destination and everything got ridiculously real. Because they were headed to Nassau and try as he might, Dean couldn’t figure out if that had been the intended course all along or if Mr. Novak had changed it. Because something was changed within the man, even the crew noticed it, however slight it was.

Dean tried desperately to catch Mr. Novak’s eye when he first heard the rumors of their destination but Mr. Novak had for some reason stopped staring at Dean. Either he was embarrassed of what he had revealed or he had lost interest. Dean didn’t even put it beneath the man to intend to sell Dean as a slave once they made port. Anything could happen at this point and Dean just wished he could talk to Cas again but was afraid of going there uninvited again.

  
  


*****

  
  


With only two days left until they arrived at Nassau, according to Guthrie, Dean was starting to get nervous but faith yet again trolled him when Mr. Novak sent for him in the middle of the night.

"What does he want?" Dean mumbled as he blearily rubbed sleep from his eyes.

Rosco snorted. "As if he’d tell me. Just don’t piss him off before we get to Nassau, okay chief?"

Dean grunted and wondered why the hell Mr. Novak got such a golden treatment and, for that matter, why Dean himself wasn’t treated worse. Seriously, it was as if he fitted right in with these scallywags and he didn’t like it.

Even so, he found himself stumbling over to Mr. Novak’s cabin in the black of night, the only sounds around him being the ship’s creaking and the lonely whistling of Brady as he sat in the crow’s nest, watching out for them.

Dean didn’t know why but he tried fixing his hair as he stood waiting for Mr. Novak to open the door. It was ridiculous, both his bedhead and the fact that he was trying to flatten it down. When Mr. Novak opened, Dean ripped his hand away from his hair and tried smiling kindly.

"Hiya." He said and noted that Mr. Novak looked awake enough for someone who hadn’t slept at all.

"Dean." Cas answered and quickly took in the otherwise empty hallway before he let Dean in.

"You do know that Rosco knows I’m here?"

"What?" Cas turned around when Dean took care to lock the door behind him.

"I mean, you didn’t have to check the hallway to see if we’re alone, Rosco already knows." He smiled but it dropped when Cas hugged himself and looked down at the floor.

"I know, I shouldn’t have asked him but I…" he sighed and looked up, his eyes like oceans of wonder and despair. "I needed to see you."

Dean gulped but tried to hide it by smirking. "Yeah? Got me what I want?" it was cruel, jumping right in like that but he needed to know. There was so much more he wanted to ask and fuck it all, he wanted to walk up to the other man and wrap his arms around him, but he couldn’t. Not with Sam potentially three days away.

But Dean felt his emotions reach for the man because this was Cas, sad and fragile Cas, and not Mr. Novak, the sadistic bastard, who looked back at Dean with such longing that it made Dean breathless.

"That’s what I need to talk to you about." Cas said and sat down on his bed only to lean his back against the wall and draw his legs up on the bed. Dean noted curiously that Cas didn’t even have his boots on and the man pulled his legs up to hug them. "I have to be frank with you."

"Sure." Dean said and tried not to be affected by the sight of Cas, looking so small and lost. In fact, when Dean looked closely he thought Cas’ eyes looked a little red, as if he had been crying. But that couldn’t be true, could it? "Hey," he started and sat down on Cas’ left side. "Are you okay?"

Cas snapped his head up and looked at Dean with such pleading eyes, as if to will him to understand and God help him, Dean really wanted to.

"No." Cas whispered and leaned his forehead against his knees in what looked like an effort to hide himself. Dean didn’t know what to do. "I’m not okay. I’m a horrible person."

"Don’t say that." Dean mumbled and toed off his own boots to sit more comfortably beside Cas. "Hey, I know we’ve only known each other for a short time and I know you act like an asshole out there but we both know you’re not like that."

Because that had to be what Cas was upset about, right? About how he acted when he was Mr. Novak?

But Cas shook his head. "It’s not… I-I have to act like that. I have to but I…"

Dean swallowed and wondered how the fuck they had ended up here. He rested a shaky hand on Cas’ shoulder. "You’re no pirate."

Cas suddenly looked up and God, he looked close to tears. Please don’t let him fucking cry, Dean just couldn’t handle that.

"I’m really not." Cas stated. "I have to act like that or they would rip me apart. I have to let them believe I rape babies and torture people for fun but I don’t. And I don’t want to be this person anymore." He drew a shaky breath and it thankfully enough didn’t seem as if he was going to cry. "I have used Mr. Novak as a shield but I _don’t like him_."

Dean grinned a little and squeezed Cas’ shoulder. "Me neither, Cas. Guy’s kind of a dick."

Cas smiled at that but it looked sad and his lips trembled. "I won’t lie anymore." He whispered and reach out to cup Dean’s cheek, just like he had that time Dean had sucked him off, Dean’s libido reminded him.

Dean nodded. "Good for you Cas." He said honestly. "Just be careful."

Dean wasn’t lying when he said that he hated Mr. Novak and he honestly thought Cas would be better off without him but then again, if _any_ of the other pirates saw this man, this small and fragile man, they would fucking tear him a new one.

But Dean wouldn’t let that happen. Cas knew where Sam was so what would be the fucking problem with just taking Cas with him when he went to save Sam? Cas could just work with them at the forge if he wanted to. Actually, Dean was really starting to warm up to the idea when he noticed how Cas’ lips were trembling again, crying imminent, and he panicked.

"No, no Cas, don’t cry." He mumbled and slid closer to grab at Cas more bodily, to show him he had him, if nothing else.

"I’m so sorry, Dean." Cas whispered hoarsely and Dean didn’t know what for. Sure, he didn’t like Mr. Novak but the man hadn’t really done anything bad to Dean. He had agreed to exchange information for sexual favors and had failed to deliver said information yet but it wasn’t too late.

"It’s okay, Cas." Dean said urgently because why wouldn’t it be? But Cas’ lips trembled worse and Dean didn’t know another way to stop it but to lean in and kiss the man.

Cas’ breath hitched like it always did when Dean was too close and Dean let himself feel smug about that. Cas was pliant under Dean’s hands and he opened his mouth willingly when Dean demanded access. And Dean wouldn’t admit it but he actually liked kissing Cas. The man tasted good and he was very responsive, whether it was because he was starved for attention or because he really wanted Dean, Dean didn’t know but he liked it either way.

"Dean, don’t." Cas breathed against Dean’s lips but Dean just drew back and licked a path down the man’s neck, reveling in the way Cas’ deep groan reverberated against his lips.

"Come on, Cas." Dean teased in-between little nips that made Cas’ hands flutter against Dean’s sides. "One more time, I’ll show you how good I can be."

And God, Dean didn’t even know why he was doing this anymore. To save Sam, to make Cas happy, or to satisfy himself? He just didn’t know and he didn’t care as he felt Cas’ fingers dig in against his ribs.

"Dean, please." Cas gasped and Dean actually moaned against his throat. Who the fuck knew that hearing a man sound so desperate would feel so good?

Dean knew now, in hindsight, that he had been lost the first time he had heard Cas moan his name but he had been stubbornly refusing to acknowledge it. But the fucking truth of the day was that he had gotten hard when he had sucked Cas off and he had jerked off to it later and he was fucking fattening up in his breeches right the fuck now, just hearing Cas sound so breathless after so little.

"Yeah, Cas." He mumbled and coaxed the man to open his legs so he could snake a hand down there, only to find Cas hard enough to probably hurt already.

"Don’t." Cas moaned but didn’t push Dean away. "I want you too much to stop myself, please don’t."

Dean thrilled at hearing that. That one word — _you_ , not _this_ — was enough to make Dean completely hard because fucking hell, he had been right all along. Cas certainly liked men but he liked Dean specifically and that made Dean feel empowered enough to grip Cas’ dick trough his breeches and stroke him confidently.

" Yeah?" he huffed against Cas’ blushing cheek. "You want me? Then fucking take me." Cas whimpered and Dean wished he knew what to do other than just suck and stroke. "I’m all yours Cas, do what you want."

And fuck if that didn’t do the trick. Cas growled low in his throat and lunged at Dean, pressing him down on the bed and yeah, Dean totally moaned at that. He had never been manhandled quite like this before and sure, he could probably take Cas in a fight but he so didn’t want to. Wanted to feel the weight of Cas as the man slotted himself between Dean’s legs and bent down to lick at Dean’s throat.

And Dean wasn’t even hesitant anymore. He had been so embarrassed that other time when Cas had put a leg against his crotch because for some reason he hadn’t wanted Cas to find out how them kissing was affecting him but now, with Cas this desperate, Dean found himself more than willing to spread his legs and let Cas grind his hard dick down against Dean’s increasingly interested one.

Yeah, he even gasped when their dicks aligned and Cas grunted against his skin.

"Dean, you’re so beautiful." Cas growled and Dean found himself helpless against the onslaught of pleasure that that voice brought him. "I need you, Dean, I need you."

"Y-yeah." Dean agreed in a stutter as he bucked back up against Cas. Fucking hell, this had escalated quickly. "Do it."

He realized just as Cas was reaching over to the lonely drawer on his desk that he didn’t even know what the fuck he was agreeing to. Sex with Cas, absolutely, but what the fuck did that mean? And why was Cas so frantic? Sure, Dean hadn’t had sex in quite a while either but holy hell.

Any why had Cas been close to tears before? Dean was just now realizing that something didn’t add up here but his dick certainly didn’t give a flying fuck and Cas was looking debauched enough already that Dean was afraid he would spontaneously combust if he told him no now.

When Cas leaned back in again he had a small bottle of what was clearly olive oil in his hand.

"What?" Dean asked and it sounded very garbled to him. Cas just look at him with lust-blown eyes.

"I don’t want to hurt you."

"What?" Dean asked again but didn’t have much time before Cas simply ripped Dean’s breeches open and proceeded with pulling them almost all the way off.

He groaned deeply as his erection bobbed free and he wasn’t even conscious of the fact that his breeches still hung off of his left leg or that he was still wearing his socks.

Cas was looking at him as if he was made of gold and Dean didn’t know what to do with that affection. He harrumphed self-consciously and bit his lip when he saw how Cas traced the movement of his dick as it jumped.

"I wanted to hope, Dean, but I…" Cas lowered himself and before Dean could ask him what he meant he had sucked Dean’s dick into his mouth and _holy fuck_.

Dean groaned and arched his back as Cas bobbed up and down his hard length and yes, just fucking yes, this felt so good that Dean was left cross-eyed after mere seconds. He wasn’t even embarrassed that he was getting off on this anymore, was just happy that he was hard enough to experience it.

Then Cas was off him as suddenly as he had been on and Dean mewled at the loss. Yeah, that happened and fuck if it didn’t get Cas even more riled up. He leaned down and captured Dean’s lips in a needy kiss just as his hand closed around Dean’s aching dick.

Dean bucked up and moaned into the kiss, fisting Cas’ shirt and hair to pull him closer because this was starting to become too much.

And then suddenly it _was_ too much. Because Cas was kissing him, jerking him off, and now there were two distinctly oiled fingers pressing against his hole and Dean’s brain screeched to a halt.

He wrenched his lips free from Cas’ and put a hand on Cas’ shoulder to push him off and ask him what the fuck but he didn’t get that far before Cas’ fingers were making their way _inside_ him.

He scrunched his eyes shut and breathed harshly through his teeth but it wasn’t half as painful as it was uncomfortable because fuck, he had a man’s fingers in his ass and Cas was _still jerking him off_.

" Cas, what the hell?" he huffed and tried to buck the other man off of him but only managed to squeeze down on his fingers, which apparently was very nice, if Cas’ moan was anything to go by.

"Dean, you’re so good." Cas whispered fervently against Dean’s sweaty throat and yeah, even with Cas’ fingers wriggling inside him his dick was still going strong in Cas’ steady hand. "So good, I can’t believe… I only wished, I couldn’t fathom…"

Dean didn’t know what the hell the man was talking about but he was quickly getting off the make-Cas-feel-better bandwagon and entering a territory dangerously close to one where he would want to punch the man.

"Cas, stop doing tha—" he cut himself off with a deep groan because Cas’ fingers had suddenly found something inside of him that made his whole body gooey with pleasure. "Wha…?" he gasped as Cas kept prodding that spot and Cas was moaning against his neck again.

"Sound so good Dean, feel so good. I can’t take it."

He let go of Dean’s leaking dick and reached down to no doubt undo his own breeches and Dean’s mind reeled when he realized what the hell all this was about. And oh God, he was such a _fool_. He had seen Cas fuck that whore up the ass, why wouldn’t he want to do that now? Dean was panicking with the implications as Cas withdrew his fingers and sat up on his knees, pulling his hard dick out. His cock suddenly looked huge and Dean wanted to flinch away but found himself spreading his legs to accommodate the other man.

Cas was looking down at Dean’s no doubt sweaty and flushed appearance and he looked awed.

"You’re so beautiful, Dean." He said again and stroked his own dick slowly. "I never thought you would enjoy this but I love that you do."

Dean blushed furiously when his own dick jumped at Cas’ words. He made a whimpering kind of sound that he had never heard himself make and that he never wanted to make again. But it drew a shudder from Cas and Dean realized in that moment that like this, flushed from arousal and reverent, Cas was a very handsome man.

He found himself reaching for the man even as Cas bent down over him. He grabbed at Cas’ shirt again and Cas pressed their lips together as he used one hand to position his dick at Dean’s quivering hole.

"Please, Dean." Cas whispered against Dean’s mouth and Dean couldn’t stop his lips from trembling.

"Yeah." He breathed. "Yeah, okay Cas."

Cas pressed in as soon as Dean was done talking and the pressure was immense. Dean pressed his head back against the pillow that smelled like Cas and he clenched at Cas’ back even as he tried to breathe through the pain because oh boy, this was painful. Two fingers hastily prodded into him had in no way prepared him for Cas’ thick cock but Dean breathed through the pain, determined to bear this for Cas.

Cas dropped his head down to the crook of Dean’s neck when he bottomed out and he was trembling all over.

"Oh God." He groaned. "Oh God, please forgive me."

Dean didn’t know if he was asking for divine absolution, for Dean’s forgiveness or if he was simply overwhelmed. In either case Dean needed him to move, pronto.

There was this constant pressure inside him now and he didn’t know what to do with it but it felt like it would be relieved if Cas would just start moving. His own erection had waned a little but not as much as he thought it should have and he was getting restless, his legs shaking on either side of Cas.

Cas was breathing harshly and when he finally understood what Dean’s twitching hips was about he pulled himself up slightly to pull out, only to slam back in and _fucking hell_.

Dean gripped Cas’ shoulders and had to bite his lip to keep from screaming because that didn’t hurt. That didn’t hurt at fucking all. Cas just made this little grunt and circled his hips a couple of times before pulling out and slamming back in again, and again, and again.

He was hitting that spot on almost every thrust and Dean couldn’t fucking breathe, okay? Could only buck up to meet Cas and moan like a wanton wench. His dick was hard again and it was pressed up against his stomach, jostled by every hard thrust Cas made.

"Fucking hell, Cas." Dean groaned and couldn’t open his eyes even though he wanted to. His whole body felt as if it was on fire, pleasure shooting up and down his spine, and he wanted Cas to kiss him but couldn’t ask for it.

Cas was murmuring something that Dean didn’t quite catch but his voice was low and rough, just like Dean liked it, and his hair a sweaty mess that Dean just wanted to run his hands through. Then suddenly he recognized what Cas was murmuring as the Act of Contrition and his insides twisted with sorrow for the other man.

"Come on, Cas." He huffed, finally prying his eyes open to find Cas’ closed and his head bowed. "Fuck me harder, fuck that man out of your memory." He didn’t know where that had come from except he didn’t want Cas to think this was wrong and he certainly didn’t want him thinking about that other man while they were here, like this. He wanted Cas to think of them and be happy about it.

Cas’ eyes snapped open and fuck, there was sadness and arousal and a thousand other emotions in them that Dean couldn’t even hope to decipher.

Cas fell down on him, claiming his lips in a furious kiss that took Dean’s breath away.

"Forgive me, Dean." He mumbled desperately against Dean’s lips. "Please forgive me, I never meant to hurt you."

Dean was confused but it didn’t overshadow his arousal. "Nothing to be sorry about, Cas." He moaned and bucked his hips harder when he felt his orgasm approaching. Fucking hell, he was actually going to come from this.

"Please, Dean." Cas was nearly sobbing into Dean’s neck now and Dean didn’t know what to do. "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry."

"C-Cas." Dean groaned and scrunched his eyes shut. "It’s okay. It’s okay, baby." He put one hand on Cas’ head and gripped his back with the other. "I’m so close, I’m gonna fucking come. Touch me, Cas. Touch me."

Cas made a sound somewhere between a sob and a groan and reached down to grip Dean’s neglected dick. He stroked firmly and completely out of synch with his thrusts but it felt so glorious that Dean screamed nonetheless.

It was a strangled shout and he bucked up only two times before he came in powerful spurts, coating both himself and Cas in white.

Cas all but whined and Dean imagined he was clenching really hard around Cas’ dick but couldn’t make himself relax. His orgasm pounded through him and he was clutching Cas closer than he ever had another person.

"D-Dean." Cas stuttered even as his hips jerked. "Forgive me."

Dean kissed Cas on his temple even as he felt Cas coming inside of him. "Let go, Cas." He mumbled and Cas’ scream was muffled against his shoulder.

Cas’ body was taunt for quite some time but Dean just let him lie there, still inside Dean and with Dean’s hands caressing his trembling back. It took some time for Dean to realize that those trembles were because of Cas crying silently rather than him having the post-orgasmic time of his life.

"What’s wrong, Cas?" Dean murmured against the man’s damp hair. "Tell me. Was I that awful?"

His obvious attempt at humor fell depressingly short and his stomach twisted in knots as Cas rose to his knees and pulled out of Dean carefully. He had his head bowed but he had at least stopped crying, Dean thought.

He reached after the other man but Cas sat back and out of Dean’s reach. He looked even worse than when they had started, if possible, and Dean felt stupid for thinking he could fix whatever was wrong with Cas by just offering sex. Because Cas had probably seen it like that and Dean wouldn’t blame him. In fact, Dean had been pretty certain when he first kissed Cas tonight that he just wanted to soothe the man using his body. He didn’t know when it had changed but it sure as fuck had.

He sat up too and winced both at the dull ache in his lower body and at the feeling of Cas’ ejaculate dribbling out of a hole Dean never wanted anything _dribbling_ out of.

" C’mon Cas." He mumbled as he carefully pulled on his breeches. "Tell me. Is it about Raphael? Because you know what? Fuck that shit." He grinned but Cas was just staring down at his hands. Dean was starting to get very uncomfortable. They had just had awesome sex and it had been the first time for Dean with a man, despite Cas’ apparent religious beliefs Dean actually thought it should be him freaking out and it so wasn’t. So what the fuck was the problem?

He sighed and sat back against the wall beside Cas, back in their previous positions. "It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, I just don’t want you to be sad."

"I’m sorry, Dean." Cas rasped and Dean frowned at him but Cas still didn’t look up. "I used you."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, well. In case you didn’t notice I actually like it. And you know what," he continued with a suddenly nervous grin. "I wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again. I was thinking, if you don’t want to be Mr. Novak anymore then you should relocate. Me and Sam run this little forge together with our uncle back in Havana. After we find Sam, you could come liv—"

"I can’t."

Dean’s brow furrowed at the unnecessarily harsh tone. It cut deeper than it should have. "Fine." He said, probably more snappishly than he needed to but it hurt, okay? "I was just thinking out loud." It wasn’t as if he had put himself out there and set himself up for heartbreak or anything else ridiculous like that. "If you don’t want to, then it’s fine." He started scooting to the edge of the bed to start pulling on his boots but was stopped in his tracks when Cas looked up.

"I want to, more than anything." He whispered with round eyes. Eyes so full of sorrow that Dean could do nothing but stare back. "But I can’t."

"Why not? You can’t mean to stay here? You should just come get Sam with me."

"I _can’t_." Cas repeated with an even more biting tone and Dean was scowling now.

" Well, why the hell not, Cas?" he spat and stood up, totally ignoring the feeling of Cas’ remains trickling down his thighs. "Why can’t you come with us?"

"Because I don’t know where your brother is!" Cas suddenly exclaimed in such a shrill voice that Dean at first wanted to hug him.

But then the meaning of his words sunk in.

"What?" he said in a low tone and Cas shrunk back on the bed.

"I don’t know where we sell the slaves in Nassau." He elaborated in a small voice. "Only Captain Crowley knows, I have never known."

Dean got cold all over with anger and it was such a contrast to the pleasant buzz of his orgasm that he felt nauseated. His hands trembled by his sides and he had to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from diving at the other man and strangle him.

"So all this…" he gestured to the bed with a hand that trembled with barely contained anger. "All this was just to _use_ me? To take advantage of my trust?"

" I-I never wanted to use you like that, Dean, I lo—"

Dean got all up in Cas’ face and slammed his hands against the wall on either side of Cas’ head. "_You took advantage of me!_" he roared in Cas’ face and Cas shrunk back, terrified eyes staring into Dean’s furious ones. " I came to you for help and you used me to satisfy your own sick needs. Goddamnit Cas, you fed me that sob-story about your past to make me do this shit with you but you had no intention of paying me back, had you?"

"Dean, please." Cas begged and reached out for Dean only to get slapped away. "I never lied to you. I never wanted to hurt you."

"Clearly you did." Dean bit out as he straightened with a scowl. "And to think I let myself believe, let myself think that you… That I actually started feeling…" he cut himself short before he could say anything stupid and just shook his head at Cas’ imploring eyes. "You know what, fuck you Castiel, you’re no different than Mr. Novak."

"Dean." Cas said weakly and it sounded as if he was close to tears again but Dean wouldn’t let it affect him this time. Couldn’t. "Please let me explain."

"Nothing to explain. You fancied a fuck and I was as easy as any whore, only more eager. I get it but fuck you, I’m done."

Shit, Cas was crying now but Dean couldn’t let that tear at his heart because why would it? Cas had clearly just used him, just like he had been afraid of. Dean had had his suspicions regarding this but he had let himself be fooled by Cas’ attitude when they were alone. And now here he was, one virginity short and back on square one regarding Sam. All this time wasted just because this man wanted to satisfy himself and Dean couldn’t _believe_ he had let himself be fooled by Cas’ act. Be fooled into actually caring. Fucking hell, he had been prepared to take Cas with him back to Havana and for what? To start a life together? Whatever he had been thinking had obviously been just another imagination of his naïve mind.

He made to leave and slapped Cas’ hand away when the man reached for him again.

"Forgive me." Cas sobbed brokenly. "Oh God, forgive me."

And all his praying suddenly made sense to Dean too. The whole Act of Contrition thing and everything. Fuck, Cas hadn’t been praying for God to forgive his sin of lying with a man, he had been praying for Dean’s absolution for fooling him. And that… that was just…

No. Dean had to steel himself because he _wouldn’t_ fall for Cas’ lies anymore.

" You keep praying, Castiel." Dean said as coldly as he could manage and walked over to the door. "And maybe someone will answer you eventually."

He exited on that and resolved not to even stay outside Cas’ door to see if the man would follow him. No, he just walked briskly down to his sleeping cot but didn’t sleep one fucking bit because fuck his life.

  
  



	7. Redemption

  
  


Castiel searched frantically through document after document. His rational part was screaming at him to get away before he was caught and the rest of him ignored the warning because he had to do this. They were due for Nassau on the morrow and then it would be too late. Everything would be over.

Oh God, Dean had looked at him with such disgusted anger and he hadn’t met Castiel’s eyes since he left the cabin and Castiel couldn’t take it. He felt as if he was dying.

So what did it matter if he put his life on the line trying to find some information, _any_ information, about Dean’s brother? If Dean never looked at Castiel again he could consider himself a shell of a man.

He didn’t know when this thing with Dean had evolved so immensely but he was starting to think it had been the first time he laid eyes on the man or something equally as depressing. Yes, he was truly a fallen man and he wasn’t even sorry about that. Was just sorry he had hadn’t been honest with Dean from the beginning. Just thinking of what could have happened almost made him cry.

They could have searched for Sam together and Dean would maybe have held Castiel at night just like Castiel had always wanted. And if they found Sam they would travel back to where the brothers lived and oh God, Dean had wanted to take Castiel with him.

His hands trembled as he flipped open yet another log book and skimmed through its pages. Why, oh why hadn’t he let Dean in before it was too late? His old fears and haunted memories of Raphael had held him back, no doubt, because Castiel had trust-issues now and that was true. But it wasn’t the whole truth. Even with how much Castiel wanted to blame this mess on his past he simply couldn’t without having to admit how infinitely stupid he also was.

His eyes suddenly caught on a hastily scrawled _Sam Winchester_ and oh thank God, Castiel had known it had to have to been in here somewhere and here it was. He breathed a sigh of relief that immediately got stuck in his throat when he felt the sleek material of a saber sword’s blunt side under his chin.

" No sudden movement, love." Captain Crowley murmured from somewhere behind Castiel’s right shoulder. "Wouldn’t want to accidentally cut your pretty little throat before you’ve had a chance to explain yourself."

Castiel’s grip on the book made the binder creak. "C-captain." He mumbled and swallowed only to feel the saber scrape against his Adam’s apple.

"That’s correct, Mr. Novak." Captain Crowley said in a condescending tone. "How about you put that book away and sit down?"

Castiel did as he was told and hated himself for it. Dean would have fought and he most probably would have won too. But Castiel couldn’t because he was weak and useless. He blinked up at Captain Crowley as the man put his saber away for the moment.

"Captain, I can explain."

"I’m counting on it, darling." The Captain stated dryly but Castiel’s throat closed up. What should he say? The truth? Oh Captain Crowley seemed harmless enough but Castiel knew better after so many years together.

The Captain raised his eyebrows at Castiel’s no doubt blank expression. "No?" he asked and tilted his head to the side. "Nothing to defend yourself with? Well, how about I take a shot at guessing?" he pulled up a chair and sat opposite of a stunned Castiel. "Here’s what I think; Mr. Winchester seduced you, turned your pretty brain into mush and convinced you to find something that could help him overthrow me. How am I doing so far?"

Castiel’s eyes widened in both surprise and fear. "No!" he exclaimed, much too forcefully, and he could see that his denying it was only making it worse but how could the Captain come to that conclusion? How could he know about Dean?

Castiel gaped helplessly at Captain Crowley’s grim face and wondered where all his wit had gone. Where had the sharp mind that had helped him survive for so long wandered off to? No doubt it had all disappeared the moment Dean walked into his life because God knew Castiel’s mental capacity deteriorated around the man.

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks." Captain Crowley mocked and leaned forward to grab at Castiel’s knee and squeeze painfully. "Tell me true now, _Mr. Novak_ , and don’t think I don’t know what’s been going on between you and that golden god of a man." He sneered at Castiel’s wide eyes. "Remember that we share a wall."

Castiel blushed so furiously that he almost got a headache. _Oh._

" I… Th-that—"

Captain Crowley clapped him harshly on the knee to cut off his rambling. "There we go." The Captain said with a devilish grin. "So you see, no point in denying it now, is there?"

Captain Crowley was going to kill him, Castiel held no illusions about this, but he couldn’t die before Dean had seen what there was to read about his little brother.

"Please, Captain." Castiel said and Captain Crowley looked up from where his hand still rested on Castiel’s knee. "Mr. Winchester is not contemplating mutiny."

"Is that so?"

Castiel nodded once and reach over to the book. He moved with slow and precise movements but the Captain didn’t interrupt him like he had feared he would. Instead he just studied Castiel’s face as Castiel flipped through the book to find the page he had been on.

He held the book open for the Captain to see when he found it and pointed to the name. "He’s looking for his little brother."

Captain Crowley’s eyebrows sure shot to the roof at that and Castiel didn’t know if it was wise telling the man or not but figured he didn’t have many options left at this point.

The Captain studied the page for a moment and then smirked at Castiel. "Well, why didn’t he just say so?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why, Mr. Novak, it’s almost as if you didn’t know me at all." The Captain said and stood with a flourish. "When Mr. Winchester first came to you, mistakenly thinking you could help him, you shouldn’t have let him seduce you, you should have pointed him to me." The Captain grinned like a maniac. "You _do_ know how I love to strike a deal."

Castiel frowned. "I suppose." He said and folded the log book shut in his lap. "But Mr. Winchester doesn’t have anything to bargain with."

Captain Crowley made a little click with his tongue and then leaned down to get uncomfortably close to Castiel’s face. "Oh, maybe not at first but I don’t think that’s true anymore."

Castiel blinked in confusion. "I don’t understand."

"You know." Captain Crowley said and straightened again only to circle Castiel slowly. "I’ve always found you fascinating. A man of the cloth, tossing it all away over a man. Oh yes," he said when he noticed Castiel tensing up. "Don’t think I don’t know the real reason you’re here. The crew might respect you because they think you’re actually a torturing maniac but I have let you keep this position purely out of curiosity. And it seems," he stopped behind Castiel to put his hands on Castiel’s shoulders and lean down to whisper in Castiel’s ear. "My patience paid off."

"Captain?" Castiel said nervously. He couldn’t for the life of him understand what was going on but he knew that his life really depended on it.

"You see," the Captain continued against Castiel’s ear. "You may not think Mr. Winchester have anything I want but I heard you two last night and I just realized, I want _you_." He massaged Castiel’s shoulders when he tensed up in sudden dread. " So it seems simple enough to me. Mr. Winchester wants his brother’s buyer, I have that. In contrast, I want you and Mr. Winchester has you. Fair trade, no?"

Castiel closed his eyes and had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming. He knew he couldn’t have had everything and he had known that one day his luck on _The Hellgate_ would run out but he had honestly thought that Captain Crowley had respected him for his work, not only kept him as a curiosity. That humiliation alone was enough to make him weep. And now this.

" We make port in Nassau tomorrow, tick-tock Mr. Novak." Captain Crowley said mockingly and Castiel swallowed against the lump in his throat.

But what right did he have to regret anything? He had put himself in this mess and Captain Crowley was giving him an out that would ensure that at least Dean would be happy. And Castiel would give anything to see Dean happy again.

"Can I be there when you tell him about this?"

"About our arrangement?" the Captain asked and sounded genuinely surprised.

"About his brother." Castiel rasped and jerked when Captain Crowley clapped him on his shoulder.

"Wouldn’t want it any other way, Mr. Novak." He smirked and Castiel thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so different.

He had signed on to serve _The Hellgate_ and its Captain, why would this little altercation change anything? Just because he had actually imagined himself by Dean’s side in the future? Because he had hoped that Dean would forgive him if he just delivered the information?

No, he realized now as he watched with dull eyes as Captain Crowley put the book down on his desk to copy the information for Dean, there had never been any other future in stock for him than this.

  
  


*****

  
  


"I don’t understand." Dean said as he stood before Captain Crowley’s desk and watched the man smirk at him. Cas was standing to the right of the Captain but he wasn’t meeting Dean eyes.

Which was just as good because Dean was still angry with the man. Wasn’t like he had been lying awake at night, thinking about their last exchange, going over it again and again to convince himself that he was indeed in the right. Because he was. Cas was an asshole, simple as that.

"It’s very simple, Mr. Winchester." Captain Crowley said with a sugary smile that made Dean’s skin crawl. "It’s come to my attention that you have joined our crew simply to find your wee brother, isn’t that correct?"

Dean wanted to be mad at Cas for ratting him out but he still couldn’t catch the man’s eyes so he couldn’t read the man’s emotions. Except that Cas’ shoulders seemed extremely tense.

"It is." Dean conceded when staring at Cas yielded nothing.

"Yes, well I just feel _awful_ about ripping your brother from your strong arms." Captain Crowley continued in a tone that suggested he didn’t feel awful at all. Sounded rather smug, actually, but Dean wasn’t about to argue.

" Okay." He gritted, uncertain of what the Captain wanted with him.

Captain Crowley’s smirk widened and he held up a paper for Dean to take. "We’re arriving in Nassau in a short while, go to this address and ask to buy a slave, preferably your brother, though I wouldn’t admit that if I were you. This is the place I dropped him off at, I can’t hope to know if he’s still there but this would be where you start looking."

Dean stared with big eyes at the address that was jotted down on the paper. He looked between the Captain and the paper a few times, stunned into silence, before his eyes finally landed on Cas. The man was looking back at him now and his eyes were these dark emotionless pools but his lips were twitching at the corners, as if holding back a smile. Cas had done this, Dean understood quite clearly, but why? Even after Dean had screamed at him, had said all those horrible things, Cas still helped Dean. Why? And how?

"What do you want in return?" he asked, eyes turned back to the Captain and he narrowed them as Captain Crowley just winked.

"Don’t worry about that, Mr. Winchester."

Dean snorted despite himself. "Am I just to believe that you did this out of the kindness of your heart? I’ve been among pirates long enough to know that wouldn’t be true."

"You fear that I will not let you off this ship." Captain Crowley stated and leaned back in his seat. "You think that maybe I’ll let you off only to kidnap you right back. You’re afraid that I will lead you to an address where you will find your brother dead only for me to kill you too."

Dean stared steadily but anxiously at the man as he spoke. They were statements, not questions, and yet Dean knew he was expected to answer.

"Well, yeah." He said after a short but suffocating silence.

Captain Crowley grinned devilishly and put a hand on the small of Cas’ back.

"Not to worry, your dept has been paid, Mr. Winchester."

But Dean worried. He worried extremely much and even more so when Cas turned his dark eyes back down to the floor.

  
  


*****

  
  


Dean hefted his little duffle bag that contained mostly his share of the loot from that merchant ship. He stared out at the port of Nassau and pretty quickly concluded that it was much better than Morgan’s Bluff but in no way as nice as Havana. Damn, he was homesick and he supposed that the promise that Sam’s buyer was somewhere in this town made it worse. Dean had steeled himself for the event that Sam may or may not have killed or sold off already but he hoped that he at least had enough gold to buy information if that was the case. He _would_ find his brother, he just knew it.

He glanced over his shoulder at the ship that had been his home for this chapter of his life and God help him, he couldn’t even conjure the slightest bit of sadness at leaving her. Yes, his time on _The Hellgate_ hadn’t been all that horrible but at the same time it had quickly become the worst time of his life. Dean would _not_ miss this piece of tar-smelling stain of a ship and certainly not its crew.

Most of the crew had already dispersed into Nassau and Dean was glad for it, just meant fewer eyes that could trace him as he left with all his loot. It had lain undisturbed down there in the cargo hold but Dean held no illusions now that he was carrying it around. It was a like a bomb and the fewer that knew him and what he was carrying, the better.

Guthrie was still at the ship, though, and he waved at Dean as he approached the plank, as if the First Mate somehow knew that Dean wasn’t just leaving for shore leave but for forever. Dean smiled at the old man but didn’t wave back.

At the plank he was met by Cas and boy if that didn’t sour his mood.

"Do you need help finding your way in Nassau?" Cas asked in a low voice just as Dean was passing.

Good question and yes, actually. Dean knew nothing of the port and would probably end up both mugged and humiliated, if not dead, if he couldn’t make his way through fast enough. Without a ship to claim protection of he suddenly felt naked.

Wouldn’t admit that to Cas, though.

"Why, you offering?" he sneered in a way that definitely let the other man know that that wouldn’t do.

But Cas surprised Dean when he responded by blushing. "N-no." He mumbled and looked down at the deck. "That would be inappropriate. I was thinking Guthrie could…"

Goddamnit, Dean couldn’t take this. Couldn’t take Cas standing so close, appearing so vulnerable. Dean just _couldn’t_ find it in him to be mad at the man.

He stepped in and captured Cas in a rough hug. "Damnit, Cas." He whispered gruffly. "I would’ve taken you with me."

Cas turned his head so that Dean could feel him smiling against his cheek. "I know. I would have wanted that."

And Dean had to let go before he started fucking crying because _fuck_. Also, Guthrie and Azazel were staring strangely at them, probably because Cas was still Mr. Novak to them and Mr. Novak gutted people who tried hugging him.

" Thank you." Dean said, completely unable to convey what he felt in any other way.

"That’ll do, Mr. Winchester." Mr. Novak answered when Dean clapped him on the shoulder.

Dean had to leave at that because he felt as if he was tearing apart and he had to be in one piece in order to find Sammy.

  
  



	8. The end

  
  


Dean knocked nervously on the door, double-checking the address Captain Crowley had given him. The house was very non-descript, just as the rest of the houses, but Dean had understood that this was considered the "better" part of town. How that fitted in with slave trade Dean would never know and he was still very conscious of the fact that Captain Crowley could have screwed him over. Still, Cas had seemed to approve of the address and Dean could trust Cas. He knew that now, even if it was too late.

The door swung open just as Dean was contemplating knocking again and he was met by a tall man with calculating eyes.

"Yes?" the man said and Dean swallowed down his nervousness because he had fucking sailed the seas as a goddamn pirate to get here.

"I’m looking for a Mr. Roman?" he said and hoped it sounded as if he belonged here. He hadn’t exactly had time to formulate a world-class plan but he had at least had time to decide that _guns blazing_ was not the way to go. Especially since Dean didn’t have a gun.

The man drew himself up and gave Dean a quick ones-over, clearly not appreciating what he saw and Dean couldn’t blame him. He probably looked like shit and the man had a frock coat even nicer than Captain Crowley’s.

"Speaking." The man stated at length and Dean gripped his duffle in a tight grip.

"I was referred here by Captain Crowley." He said and tried to school his features, very unaccustomed to lying so blatantly.

Mr. Roman’s eye narrowed momentarily. "Buying or selling?"

Dean gulped but tried to hide it. "Buying. For my master." He hastened to add when he saw that Mr. Roman was about to rebuff him.

"Is that so?"

Dean held up his duffle and opened it a little. "I was told to show you our credibility first."

Yeah, Dean had no fucking clue what the hell he was doing and he was starting to think that he would have to go with plan B instead. A.k.a. pleading on his bare knees because he didn’t have a fucking plan B, don’t be ridiculous.

But Mr. Roman apparently caught sight of what little gold Dean had in his duffle because his frown turned upside down into the smarmiest smile Dean had ever seen, and one of his regular customers back at the forge was a particularly smarmy fuck named Mr. Adler.

"Why don’t we talk inside?" Mr. Roman said and opened the door to offer Dean access.

Dean clutched his duffle close and followed silently as Mr. Roman led him through a narrow corridor into a ridiculously posh study.

"You don’t have to worry." Mr. Roman said as he seated himself behind his desk. "My establishment offers high-quality slaves and complete discretion."

"What?" Dean said, taken by surprise both at the statement and at being interrupted as he stared dumbly at the many bookcases that lined the walls.

Mr. Roman clasped his hands in his knee and squinted a little at Dean. "I take it discretion is of importance for your master? Isn’t that why he sent you instead of coming here himself?"

Dean swallowed and bobbed his head. "Yeah. I mean, yessir."

Mr. Roman nodded, apparently pleased. "Now, tell me. What kind of slave does your master wish to purchase? Work? Cleaning? Academics? Pleasure?"

Dean was sweating and hoped it wasn’t visible. Hoped that his obvious nervousness was interpreted as him being a nervous manservant or whatever the fuck Mr. Roman had interpreted from Dean’s lies.

"H-he didn’t specify it like that." He said when Mr. Roman raised his eyebrow expectantly at him.

"How, then?"

"Um…" Dean coughed and willed himself not to stutter so much. "Tall, taller than me. Male, able-bodied." He didn’t know how else to describe Sam and didn’t know if Mr. Roman pursed his lips in suspicion or thought. "Nice hair." He added, albeit a bit desperately, and shit, Mr. Roman looked up at that.

"That was very precise." He said but he was smiling so Dean dared to smile as well. "And I think we’re both in luck." He was pushing himself out of his seat and Dean’s heart hammered in his chest. "I think we can make a business transaction here that will satisfy us both." He led Dean out of his study again and down a set of stairs into a dank cellar. "I acquired a handful of men not three months ago and two of them have proven a bit difficult to sell off." He smiled at Dean over his shoulder. "I don’t really have it in me to put them down but they do take up space and resources."

"Of course." Dean mumbled and tried to fight the want to strangle the man. Oh how easy it would be but Dean had never hurt anyone, not really, and he still didn’t know where Sam was. He needed this man alive so he would just have to suck it up.

"Now," Mr. Roman said as he fished up a key from his pocket and unlocked a door that led to a barely lit hallway with several doors lining the walls. "One of these men had exceptionally beautiful hair so I cut it off and sold it to one of the barbers in town but I assure you, it’ll grow back in no time and it will certainly please your master."

"Let me be the judge of that." Dean muttered as they stopped outside one of the doors. His heart was hammering so hard he thought Mr. Roman must hear it but the man just grinned at him.

"Of course." He said and unlocked the door to pull it open.

Inside were two threadbare mattresses and on them were two men. One scrawny blonde that looked dead to the world and one Sam Winchester. Dean nearly cried with relief.

Sam was obviously malnourished and very unclean but he looked up when the door opened with this defiant stare that made Dean’s heart leap. Sammy’s eyes widened when he saw Dean and Dean stepped in and pointed directly at Sam before he could say anything to ruin the lie.

"That one." He said in a steady tone and Sam just stared at him with his mouth slightly open.

"Very good." Mr. Roman said and sounded very pleased. "If you’ll come with me to the study so we can draw up the contract and payment."

Dean’s eyes never left Sam’s and he had to really fight the tears when he saw that Sammy was already crying. He nodded curtly and followed Mr. Roman back up, steps lighter than they had been since the day Sam first got on the _HMS Cutlass_.

  
  


*****

  
  


"I can’t believe you came for me." Sam mumbled as he lay huddled on the small bed in the cabin the last of Dean’s loot had paid for.

The captain of this merchant ship had been uncertain about accepting Sam onto his ship but Dean had paid him with the spices that Mr. Roman hadn’t wanted and that had been enough for both privacy and a safe passage all the way to Havana. Well, as safe as the waters could be. Dean was out by the bow all day long, watching for pirate ships and definitely not thinking about a special ship that must be far behind them because it had still been at port when Dean and Sam left Nassau. Not that Dean had checked.

"Of course I came for you, little brother." Dean mumbled as he cut the bread the cook had given him into smaller slices. The ship’s crew didn’t know what had happened to Sam but Dean had told them that he was sick with something that wasn’t contagious so even if the rest were suspicious, the cook had at least taken it as his personal mission to nurse Sam back to health. And Sam kept mostly to the cabin so it was fine.

Dean had to remind himself that this was legit ship all the time, though. He caught himself staring suspiciously right back at the crew, accusing them for all kinds of pillaging in his head. Until he remembered that okay, this was _not_ a pirate ship. These were the kind of men who were afraid of pirates. Still, couldn’t be too sure what with Sammy getting kidnapped and all.

Sam just shook his head and accepted the bread when Dean offered it. He was eating better now and Dean was glad. He was almost starting to look healthy enough that Dean could get away with teasing him about how _ridiculous_ his hair looked now, all cut unevenly and whatnot.

" Do I even want to know what you had to do to get here?"

Flashes of blue eyes jumped at Dean but he pushed them aside. "I became a pirate." He said cheerily, as if it had been a fun joke. Yes, what a fucking riot it had been.

Sam frowned around his bread. "Dean…"

Dean sighed and carded a hand through his hair. "I tracked down the ship that intercepted yours and joined their crew to get information about you."

Sam’s eyes nearly budged out of their sockets, which was just a tad bit of overreacting in Dean’s opinion.

"Dean, that’s insane."

"Yes, thank you, Uncle Bobby said the same thing but you know what?" Dean smirked at Sam and pushed the man’s legs aside so he could sit on the bed too. "That old man’s gonna be the first one to cry when he sees you safe and sound."

Sam couldn’t help smiling at that, Dean noted smugly. "Still, it had to have been horrible for you. I’m so sorry, Dean."

Dean shrugged. "It wasn’t all bad. Made some friends, shared some laughs." _Sacked a ship, got my heart twisted. Good times._

Sam nodded as he munched on his bread. "I remember the crew was okay, for pirates. You know," he straightened and smiled at Dean. "There was this one man that snuck down at night to feed us oranges. The rest of the crew seemed kind of nervous around him but I thought he was nice. He read mass for us one night."

Dean’s heart suddenly felt as if it was going to explode. "Really?" he croaked and Sam nodded.

"Yeah. I don’t remember his name, though. They called him mister something. Mr. Norland? Mr. No…?"

"Mr. Novak?" Dean pressed out.

"Yeah." Sam’s eyes lit up. "He was nice."

"He was." Dean agreed and closed his eyes to lean his head against the wall because he just couldn’t anymore, couldn’t not remember blue eyes and hurt because of what hadn’t been. Just couldn’t.

Sammy didn’t seem to notice, though. He seemed content with their talk and his bread and he lay down to sleep when Dean just remained silent. Dean would spend a long time that night watching the quiet sea.

  
  


*****

  
  


Castiel watched with dull eyes as Captain Crowley’s chest rose and fell steadily as the man slept peacefully beside Castiel, perfectly content to lie there and trust that Castiel wouldn’t try anything.

How easy would it be? Castiel wondered and raised his hand to let it hover just above the Captain’s throat. Would he be able to do it? Could he do it quickly enough? Did he even care if he got caught or not?

He sighed and rolled to the side, away from the other man. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. Castiel had thought he was dead inside before but oh how wrong he had been. Now, away from Dean and at the Captain’s _every_ beck and call, he felt truly lost.

How long had it been since they had left Nassau? Castiel didn’t even know, he hardly left the Captain’s cabin anymore and had started counting the days by the type of food Cain brought him; by the type of fuck the Captain fancied. The crew was bewildered and angered and disgusted but Captain Crowley didn’t care and Castiel found he really didn’t either.

He didn’t care what they thought of him, just about how he could survive into the next day and even that seemed less and less important as the days bled into a timeless black hole. How long could he keep this up? How long before the memories of green eyes and kind hands left him? Or smothered him?

Captain Crowley suddenly made a snorting sound in his sleep and Castiel felt disgusted enough to vomit. What had he become? He had been a man of the cloth, a respectable man. And he had thrown that away for nothing, just like he had thrown away his position here on this ship. Only it didn’t feel like it had been in vain this time because it had bought Dean what he had needed. He wished desperately that he could know if Dean had succeeded in finding his brother. He thought he probably had.

Castiel sat up when the Captain made that sound again. His eyes flicked between the man’s face and the pillow beside Castiel’s right hand. He could just suffocate him, he supposed, but what would be the joy in that? What would ever bring him joy again?

He rose abruptly in a sudden exclamation of anger and walked out of the cabin, not even caring to close the door or put on clothes. God, he was just so tired.

He stalked over to the bow and ignored Alastair, who gaped at him as he passed the rudder. He walked right up to the railing and climbed over it, holding himself back and balancing on the edge.

The waters looked black and welcoming, probably cold but that was just fine. All the warmth had already left Castiel’s life so this would be suitable, wouldn’t it? He lifted his gaze and stared at the night’s sky. He had always thought it looked beautiful but now all he saw was a black blanket, covering the world end to end.

It was difficult, he thought as he stood there hanging on by a thread, to live a life at its fullest. To be content with what God had allotted and not to reach too far. It was, simply put, difficult to live.

"God have mercy on my soul." He mumbled and let go, of everything.

  
  


#### After

Life got on as usual after Sam and Dean got back home in Havana. Well, as normal as it could after what they had been through.

Did Dean spend a lot of time in his bedroom in the apartment above the forge, staring out at the harbor and barely there sliver of the ocean? Yes. Did he regret anything? Yes.

But the point was that Sam was back and safe and Dean’s little family was happy again, no matter how suffocated Dean felt.

He tried fooling himself by saying he didn’t know what was wrong; what he was missing. He tried laughing with Sam and Uncle Bobby and he tried not to drink too much. But it was difficult, especially to lay off the rum because there were just so many memories connected to that liquor.

Memories he didn’t want to remember and that he had not business remembering because Sam was safe, Uncle Bobby was safe, and their forge hadn’t taken a too big of a hit with both him and Sam gone for so long and that was _all_ that mattered.

At least that was what Dean told himself as he sat staring out at the ocean in the dead of night, the only company a half-empty bottle of rum.

Then one day, almost a year after they had gotten home, Sammy came into the forge while Dean was cleaning and he had this strange expression on his face.

"What?" Dean mumbled and barely looked at his brother but Sam stopped him in his tracks by putting a hand on his shoulder.

"There’s someone here to see you."

Dean sighed. "If it’s Mr. Adler you can just tell him that I said by the end of the week. It’s not the end of the week yet."

"It’s not Adler." Sammy smiled when Dean frowned at him. "There’s a priest here to see you."

"Priest?" Dean parroted and tried to ignore the twisting in his gut that mere word conjured.

"He’s outside."

Dean kept frowning all the way to the outside of the forge but stopped when he saw who it was. The sun made the man’s hair a light brown and his eyes were sparkling in a way Dean had never seen but always dreamed they could. The white collar stood in stark contrast to his black robes and he had his hands clasped serenely in front of him.

"C-Cas." Dean stuttered and Cas smiled at him. Big and dazzling and Dean stumbled as he reached for the man. Cas caught him by his elbow and his smile widened as Dean’s stupid eyes teared up.

"Hello, Dean."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you for all for reading and if you want to give me more prompts you are very welcome to do so! :D
> 
> In answer to your questions about how Cas arrived in Dean’s embrace (because not everyone can be as satisfied with movie mystery endings as I am):
> 
> I’d personally like to think that he roped himself a couple of sea turtles, lashed them together and made a raft.
> 
> Or, _maybe_ , he decided that he wasn’t quite ready to die yet after all (having mentioned earlier that he had been too cowardice to off himself after Raphael tossed him away, too) so he clung to some driftwood. And perhaps God really did have mercy on his soul and a passing ship picked him up before he could succumb to hypothermia or whatever else people die off when floating naked in sea water. And maybe they took him to some port and he decided to use his second chance in life to preach the word of God again. And feeling filled with a mission but still empty every time he thought of Dean he eventually gave into the pull and transferred to the local church in Havana, to once again be able to meet Dean. And Dean would be overcome by goddamn emotions and they would totally fuck and make everything work out because even if Cas’ religion condemned their relationship, God apparently didn’t. And Bobby and Sammy would be so happy for Dean that he couldn’t stand looking at their fugly smiling faces. And they all lived happily ever after!
> 
> Or, you know, the sea turtle thing :D


End file.
